


Dancing in the Dark

by Havenlyfics



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Breathplay, Character Death, Choking, Cock & Ball Torture, Dismemberment, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mary Sue, Masturbation, Matricide, Murder, Mutilation, Not Canon Compliant, Psychopaths In Love, Resurrection, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:18:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 28,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havenlyfics/pseuds/Havenlyfics
Summary: She was the prima ballerina of the Gotham Ballet; til 5 brutal murders sent her to Arkham. There she meets Jerome Valeska, and in him finds a kinship she never thought she'd know.





	1. A brand new home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! This story will be running parallel to my Victor Zsasz storyline, so don't expect any intersecting. I hope you enjoy and lemme know what you think :D

"Why did you do this!?"

The shouts and shrieks cried out in the courtroom as the judge read my verdict; I was to spend the remainder of my life in confines of Arkham. The words 'criminally insane' had been uttered over and over again as I tried to accept my punishment with grace. My face was a stoney mask being lead from the defendant's desk, my victims' families yelling expletives to my unyielding ears. The flash of cameras was what I really waited for, and the wave of press that hit me and my guards was like none I'd ever seen. My face spread into a gorgeous toothy smile, offering little waves from the handcuffs.

"Miss Brooker! Do you have anything to say!?" An eager reporter thrust a recorder to my lips, just as I was to be loaded into an armored ambulance.

"Only that I will miss my fans so dearly!" I cried in my sweetest stage voice, the heavy doors shutting behind me. I was to be carted off to my new home. The night had fallen by the time me and my entourage arrived, dragging me through processing. The intake officer scowled as she filled out my paperwork, her lip curling as I signed my name to it with a flourish. "Always happy to meet a fan," I cooed as the hospital orderlies pulled me to the tiny cell that would be my bedroom for the rest of my days. My hands went to the bright orange jumpsuit I had been forced to wear during the trial, stripping it from my flesh. Bare skinned, I rubbed at my tender wrists, red from the prolonged wear of the irons. I stepped into the cage crossed moonlight that filled my little cube, eyes trying to peer through long dirtied glass.

"Well," I whispered "What a fine mess we're in now."

My nose crinkled, looking down at the black and white dress they'd shoved me into. I pulled at the hem, the garment offered none of the style my regular fashion sense preferred. My hair, normally done up in a tasteful chignon, hung in thick waves over my shoulders as I stepped into the cafeteria of the dilapidated institute. I walked slow, graceful across the floor, feeling eyes fall on me as I wafted to seek out food. The gruel I  found turned my stomach, but I managed to slurp it down, grease and all. My eyes scanned your surroundings, taking in the insanity. Some ate, others just sat, some muttered; a few shrieked. I tried to keep up the decorum I'd maintained through my sentencing, eating delicately, smiling and nodding to anyone who came up, thanking them for their support. My eyes fell to rest on a guard who looked incredibly out of place; he was younger than the rest of the staff and his expression said he wished he were anywhere else. He was the perfect choice to cement the character I was playing here.

"Excuse me? Mister guard?" I waved a hand at him, beckoning him from his position leant against a wall. He walked over with a tightness on his mouth, doleful eyes watching me. "Mister guard, can you tell me when rehearsals are to start? My partner still hasn't arrived!" Yes, that's good, I thought. Mentioning my victims always put a stir in people, locking in their impression of me.

His eyes remained cold, but he replied. "You know very well this isn't dance class, Celeste."

"No?" My hand pressed against my chest, acting shocked. "It simply must be sir! Where else would I be?"

"You're in Arkham," his gruff voice held a sceptic tone. "You were brought here for murdering your last five dance partners."

I placed a finger on my lips, rolling my eyes as if trying to place a memory. "Hm...  that does sound like me; my partners have always said I was difficult to work with," I swung my legs out from under the table, extending one up towards him. "but I make up for it when I dance." He shoved my foot from his face, his tightly pursed lips forming a grimace.

"Dancing won't get you out of here, Celeste. Did you need something or can I get back on duty?"

I took his hand with as much gentility as I could, stroking his skin. "What's your name, Mister guard?" He glanced away a moment before responding. "It's Officer Gordon."

I smiled up at him; in the months leading to my court date I had perfected a smile perfectly balanced between saccharine and deranged; the mad starlet. I gave it to him now.  
  
"Would you be my dance partner, Officer Gordon?"  
  
He jerked his hand away, visibly disgusted. He returned to his spot at the wall, overseeing the other inmates and doing all he could not to look at me.  
  
' _That's perfect, Celeste_ ' my inner self offered congratulations. ' _You can play this role forever._ '


	2. The mad starlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeste addresses her reasons for being st Arkham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got alot of back issues of this written already, so updates may come quickly.

My new therapist sat across from me at her desk, her eyes pouring over my files. I had decided to make a name for myself during my time in the madhouse; currently, we were meeting to discuss why I'd been compelled to pluck out my fellow inmates' eyes during recreational hour. I intended to say it was because they didn't watch me dance.

"So Celeste," the raven haired doctor began, her eyes finding me. "How have you been feeling about your time here so far?" It wasn't the question I was expecting, but my act didn't falter.

"Well its not exactly up to my standards," I gave a little entitled scoff "but it hasn't been terrible. The staff are lovely, but I'm a little offended by the lack of interest in my performances," she scratched down a few words in my file -- I wondered what she wrote "I mean, how often do you see the prima donna of the Gotham ballet dance for free?"

She barely reacted, just writing more notes. "Mhm, I understand; I've seen you dance," her dark eyes focused on my face, reading my expressions. "Does it bother you, when people aren't watching?" I crossed my legs in my seat, pretending to ponder her question.

"Why shouldn't they watch me? I haven't spent years training my body for them not to." She flicked back a few pages in the already thickening folder, then returned to her place.

"That's very interesting, Celeste. But I'm more interested in who you are when nobody is watching." This new Doctor was beginning to irk me. All I had wanted was to give them my usual show, the starry eyes, the smile. I wasn't here for a session.

"I'm no different, Dr.Thompkins. What the public sees is who I am."

"Really?  Because according to the guards, you spend most of your time in your cell, alone. Not too many folks to watch you there." I feigned a sigh, hands clasped in my lap.

"My constitution demands rest, Doctor. I do so love performing for my devotees, but even I can only handle so much!" She pulled a face and I wondered if she bought my words.

"Yes, I've heard that of performers - they put so much into their work, they keep their true selves hidden."

"Not me, Doctor. I'm completely transparent."

"But see, that's where your story doesn't make sense," I watched as her hands animated her words "you were the toast of Gotham, yet you killed for a permanent audience. You claim you need the attention but pluck out people's eyes. It's like... everything you do is a paradox. Nothing makes sense."

I gave her a little shrug. "Well Doctor, I can't really speak to making sense; I act as my passion moves me."

"You act. Right." With a few minor notes Doctor Thompkins deemed our session complete.

"It was lovely to meet you, Doctor. I look forward to our next interview." She gave me a little smile as she opened the door to her office, freeing me. As I followed the hallway back to gen pop, I came across the harsh guard I had met on my first day. Seeing his discomfort around me, I gave a little twirl as he passed, the edge of my skirt brushing against his pant leg.

"Care for a dance, Officer Gordon?" I laughed soft as his step quickened in the other direction.

I only stood in gen pop for a moment or two before deciding to retire to my room. I chose to dance on the tips of my toes on my way, giving the guards a heady taste of the mad starlet. I pulled my door shut with a loud thud, glad to be on my own once again. I slid down against my door, one of the few spots in the room that the guards could not view. The cement was cold and hard on my backside, buy it was worth it for the mild sense of privacy. I took deep breaths, allowing the constant mask I wore to break down. Finally alone.

I hadn't realized how exhausting this act would be. The role was nothing I wasn't used to; I had played the air headed ingenue for years. But that had only been in bursts, in the cold silence of my true home, I could be myself. The self that lived and died in the void, untouched by light or goodness. The only light I allowed was on stage, when I would let it seep into my soul; only to be devoured by the emptiness within. It wasn't that I minded the blackness of my life. I had learned a long time ago that the place my heart lived was a solitary one, which was fine. I played the blushing beauty with the dancers in my company, grinned and laughed for the paparazzi that caught me on dates. The men I fucked were boring; knowing only the self I presented to them, they didn't feel the need to do much. The naive danseuse would take what they gave and thank them for it. It was all hideously mundane; their boorish rutting would never reach any bit of my spirit. My partners, the ones who's lives I stole, had each promised themselves to me at one point or another. They had put up with my moodiness, the diva that I put on; stood by and waited as I would throw fits and storm out of rehearsals with crocodile tears streaming down my face. They were sweet; I'm sure some giddy, ditzes would've made them grateful wives; but they had to have the brass ring.

The lie I'd told police had stuck. The pampered princess of the stage, who demanded total loyalty from her partners.

_'She cut off their legs! So they couldn't run while she danced!'_

_'She stitched their hands together, so they'd always be clapping!'_

Though true I had done all that, the M.E. hadn't been forthcoming with the time line of my actions. The dismemberment, the posing, it had been secondary. I needed to paint the perfect picture of the undone dancer. My first act was plunging a knife into their chests, deep and secure into their hearts; my eyes watched with incredible intrigue as the brightness in theirs faded to nothing at all. Another light for my darkness to swallow. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted, I couldn't help but do it again. Then again.  And twice more, for good measure; all these talented men had offered their souls to me, at one point; they should have specified had they not wanted me to free them.


	3. Drinking darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty much just porn folks.

When my eyes opened again, the cell was almost completely dark. Another clouded night in Gotham, like so many others. I smiled at nothing, drinking in the sweet blackness around me. Despite the still unfamiliar setting, I found my way to the broken spring cot I called a bed. Thinking back on taking their lives always drummed up my blood; it was the only thing I ever really felt. I craved something, anything close to that. It was like a drug, one taste of that power wasn't enough; five wasn't enough. I had a bet with myself that no amount would ever suffice,  never sate the hunger for watching the life leave a person. Knowing that no such luck would come my way this evening, I settled for something more physically stimulating.

I rolled my standard issue panties down my legs, tossing them to the side of my cot. Slow and steady I pulled up the hem of my dress, exposing my waiting pussy to the cool dark. Ever since I'd been caught, this was almost always how my night's ended. My hand followed the curves of my bones to my clit, already hardening, the other to my eager entrance, already slick from need. Much like my killing technique, I was quick and to the point, drawing circles around my bundle of nerves that pulsed under my fingertips. It's twin wasted no time either, plunging into my hole, feeling the slippery need that swelled inside. My breath hitched, eyes closing in pursuit of total nothingness while my limbs worked diligently away. I could hear a soft footstep from the hall, but a spectator wasn't going to stop me. Would give them something interesting to tell the Doctor, after all. My attentions were pulled from my possible onlooker and back to the growing pressure between my legs. 

My fingers knew all my secret spaces and spots fluently; in a way no partner ever could, or at least, none who had tried. Deftly they hooked inside me, prodding as much as they could at the delicate nerve wall that resided within; the combination of pressure from both sides always so delicious. 

Of late, I had begun to picture the crimes that had brought me here to add to the overall experience. Even in memory, the sight of the terror in their eyes slowly replaced by the nothingness of death caused a flood of juices to pour from my pussy, eager to coat my lips and clit. I saw in my mind's eye the blood gush out of their chests, coating silvery steel; my legs spasmed, twitching and writhing in a disjointed rhythm with my handiwork. My mind flashed with a maelstrom of blood, fear and pleasure as I circled my clit furiously, my digits soaked and sliding around in just the way I needed. 

My fingers had sped without my noticing and my body reacted to it, practically suckling my digits deeper within. My sex ached for release, urges woven deep into my DNA for gratification, when it finally hit. As I came my fingers were nigh on crushed, my cunt clamping down so hard. I moaned into the emptiness, sound vibrating off the cold stone walls. I rode the wave out, my fingers growing lazy with loose, unpolished circles around my clit until I finally came down, releasing my hands from their obligations. 

My breath went down in gulps as the final muscle spasms twitched in satisfaction; maybe sleep wasn't as far away as it seemed.


	4. A real knee slapper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeste finds her new home boring; and years for entertainment. Then he walks in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we meet our clown prince of crime for the first time! Enjoy ;D

Life had grown dull. In the last weeks I had wondered if prison would have been preferable; as it turned out, the insane could be incredibly predictable. Every morning so and so would get told off for eating her hair, the same two oafs got in the same fight. Officer Gordon had disappeared out of the blue one day, and even my sweetest smile wouldn't spill the beans. It was excruciatingly tiresome. Every day I said no to the advances of Richard Sionis; or at least one of his underlings. For a billionaire, he lacked vision. And it bored me. Bored me to tears.

The act was fooling everyone; the inmates were constantly gawking and giggling as I passed, even the orderlies and the guards would bend with a smile; Gordon had been the only staff in this place that hadn't bought into the starlet. It wasn't long before 'inmate' was replaced with 'Miss' or 'ma'am'. I pitied the poor captives who marvelled at my talents; they would never have the chance to see me in my full glory, stage and all. But I found cold amusement in the guards' buffoonery. They tried so hard to maintain control, to be the hyper masculine, tough as nails security the job demanded; but the glance of my practiced, pearly smile turned them to butter. 

It didn't take much doing to have the staff bringing me items I felt I needed; fresh, clean books, some from their own shelves, accompanied by sweet recommendations I didn't care about. I was allowed items in my cell that any average inmate would've been punished for; pens, scarves I never wore, sheets and sheets of glamor shots to send to the fans who still wrote me despite incarceration. What had taken the most doing was the mirror; it hung across from the foot of my cot, long and proper glass; not the polished steel of the mirrors in the bathrooms. That item had taken a kiss; as shy and unassuming as I could manage, a stage gasp accompanying his action to grab my ass; he wanted a story for his friends, I wanted a mirror; it was hanging the next evening. 

I sat against the back wall of the rec room, reading one of the few books kept for the overall population; my books would never leave my cell. It's pages yellowed, torn and scribbled, it was all the decent conversation I could find here. I listened to the sounds of buzzers, rolling bars as another body joined the room. I yawned; the monotony of this life was getting to me, eating me. I couldn't even muster up a glance to the new guest, remaining engrossed by the shabby book in my hands.

I was snapped out of my boredom by the sound of a man shouting, accompanied by the crack of bones. On the bolted table laid Francesco, a huge slab of a man, twisting in pain with a grip on his broken arm. I felt what almost seemed like a flutter in my chest, seeing his exposed bone. My eyes followed upward to see the man - boy - standing over him. He was tall, lean; but the way his striped uniform fit him spoke to a well muscled body. The body of a dancer. His limbs were long, leading up to broad shoulders and paper white skin. His ginger hair shone almost blood red, a wild and uninhibited grin across his mouth. 

"Yeah, I've been told I'm a real crack up," his laugh matched his vicious grin, cackling at his own corny joke. "But this one is a real knee slapper!" He punctuated his last word by bringing his foot down onto Francesco's knee, evoking another scream of pain. He doubled back in racous laughter, whooping and hollering.   
His stare fell back to the man under him, now a whimpering puddle. His smile faded from his lips, replaced with a look of sheer boredom. 

"What, that's all you have? Boy aren't you a one hit wonder," his eyes darted around the room, boring into the faces of the wide eyed inmates; until his stare fell on me, and locked. I couldn't see it from his tabletop perch, but now it was clear. Behind the muddled green and showmanship; there was nothing. His eyes held the living embodiment of the void. The boyish lunatic was stark still; his gaze as focused on me as mine on him. I watched as the corners of his wide mouth twitched with the threat of a smile, and as he moved to get closer, a guard materialized behind him, pulling him back with no warning. His head made contact with the steel table, but the blood seeping from it didn't seem to break his concentration; his eyes were still on me, that mouth now a twisted leer.

"C'mon fellas, I'm just trying to make friends!" His voice was youthful but seemed to hide an underlying rumble, like an oncoming storm. "I promise I'll play nice! On my mother's grave!" What he said put him into hysterics as the orderlies came to strap him into a straitjacket, the guard keeping him pinned. 

"Get 'im outta here! Little brat's not ready for privileges!" The staff barked as his final buckles were fastened. Not wanting to risk the same fate, I merely watched as they hauled him away, his legs kicking all the way along. 

"Call me, sweetcheeks!" His eye caught mine once more before bars shut behind him, his destination almost certainly a rubber room. 

"Wow," I whispered. It was only then I noticed how my heart was pounding.


	5. Funnies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what are you guys thinking so far? And who's excited for 4.2 tonight!? I know I am ;)
> 
> I hope you don't mind this being so long folks; I had alot to write.

~POV CHANGE~

 

"Awe come on boys, I was just shaking the man's hand!" He protested to the cowardly little orderlies as they threw him into a padded room. "I've got a hell of a grip; take this off and I'll show ya," he threw back his best grin, seeing fear fill their faces as the door shut in his own. With a groan he fell to his back, staring up at the blood spattered ceiling.

 'Who managed that?' he wondered, 'and can I beat it?' It wasn't any matter for now. All he could think of was the gorgeous little number in the corner, clearly a fan.  Her face was familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. 

"Could put my fingers on her though, mm," his cheeks practically hurt from the smile on my face, but it was a good hurt; one of his favourites. He conjured her in his mind, as best he could from the few moments he'd seen her. Her body stretched across the floor, long and languid, that flouncy little dress he praised the higher ups for forcing her to wear, thick, deep red hair; darker than his own, draped over her shoulders. But those eyes were what stuck in his brain, what he could see so clear. Utter darkness. There was a black emptiness in her eyes he'd only ever seen in his own mirror. 

"I could make her squeal," he breathed, rustling against his restraints. It had been ages since he'd been unsure in his thoughts; he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear her scream in pain or pleasure. "Little of both?" He pondered aloud, followed by a deep cackle. A soft growl let his throat; he couldn't get her out of his head. He rolled onto his front, grinding his pelvis into the rubberized floor; an itch had found its way to his groin, and with his hands incapacitated there wasn't much he could manage. He shut his eyes, nuzzling his face into the padding, pretending it was her skin.

"Oh sugar we're going to have so much fun." He groaned, his teeth clamped in a sinister grin. 

~POV CHANGE~

 

With any dance, at least one worth doing, there has to be an element of intrigue. The cat chases the bird; it was my favourite part of any routine, and I always played the best little sparrow. My daring matched my irksome nature; the cats only hunted more vehemently. 

This dark eyed boy I found was no cat. If he was anything, he was a wolf. 

I'd gone out of my way to amplify my starlet act in the past days, performing short ballets at random, in hallways, the cafeteria. Every so often I would catch a shock of orange hair in the crowd watching my pirouettes, but I ignored it. I would fly just out of his reach; in this tedium, playing this game was the one and only highlight. Even if he turned out to be like the rest of them, if the darkness wasn't really there; at least it was something to do. 

I spent a drizzly afternoon splayed under the large window that lit the rec room, reading a back issue of the Gotham Gazette. The Arkham staff didn't feel that we inmates - the ones who could read - required present day editorials, but this one was a favourite of mine; it told the story of Officer Gordon, having won the day with one of his more recent arrests.

"Moving on up," were my words when I first saw it, feeling something akin to pride for my former plaything; at least he had gotten out. I crossed my legs, my ever growing hair twisted at the back of my head to support my neck. 

"Don't suppose you have the funnies?" I deigned to fold down the corner of my paper to see the ghost white face of that violent youth smiling down.

"Sorry, no. Roscoe likes to take them to make hats," I jerked my head in the direction of a woman wearing a complicated mass of pulp on her head, brightly coloured with ink. "I try to be charitable to the less fortunate." 

"Well, aren't you darling?" The boy sank to the floor, long legs bent slight with a fist supporting his chin. "I'm Jerome. What's your name, sweetcheeks?"

I raised a brow to him before resuming my reading. "You don't know? Apologies, I took you for cultured." 

He gawked a moment, brows up turned before snickering; his teeth were even brighter and sharper than I'd seen before. "Oh honey, I'm plenty cultured. Been all over. Betcha never seen Tulsa?" I responded with silence. "Hmph, and you're calling me uncultured. I bet you've heard of me, though."

My eyebrows jumped in a sceptic formation. "Sorry dear, can't say your face is all that familiar."

He chuckled, his finger poking against the back of the paper. "You might not know this handsome mug, but you're reading about me!" 

My eyes flitted to the headline on the front: 

GOTHAM TOURISM UP : IS IT THE HARBOR TOURS? 

I gave him a flat look. "Are you some mad tour guide or something?" 

His lips pursed in exasperation, flipping the editorial over and turning a few pages.  
"RIGHT here!" He returned it to my hands, pointing hurriedly at a little excerpt in the left corner: 

CIRCUS BOY CONVICTED OF MATRICIDE 

"Oh, there you are," I offered a tiny smile "page four, though? Hardly a headliner," his face seemed to darken at my fun, silently stewing "but I see your potential."

"Don't you worry doll; I'm a star on the rise," his arms wove with his words; the circus upbringing made perfect sense. "Play your cards right and I'll take you with me, Miss...?" His turned his hand in a circle, impatient for my name. 

Something about the lack of recognition bothered me. I sat up, setting my journal aside. "My name is Celeste Brooker."

A look of realization passed over his face, his mouth forming an O. "That's where I know you from! The stab happy starling!" He threw his head back in laughter before thrusting a hand out to shake. "Love your work. Big fan." 

"Pleasure, Jerome," I took his hand warily, giving it a short wag before withdrawing. "Always nice to meet a fan. Where have you seen me dance?" 

"You dance?" He cocked his head to one side, a legitimate confusion on his face. "Oh no doll, I mean your work with a knife," his head rolled from side to side. "or ice pick, or any sharp instrument really. How did you do it anyway? Don't spare any details."

I watched him carefully, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, eager for my answer. "I try not to dwell in that portion of my life," I lied. "it was such a... dark time for me."

"What's wrong with that, sweetcheeks?" He pulled a face, leaning in a little close for comfort. I could smell the standard issue soap on his skin, combining in a heady fragrance with his sweat. "Don't tell me you're scared of the dark?"

In this intimate space, I had a good long look at his eyes. My gaze hadn't been playing tricks on me; there was truly nothing behind his. There was intelligence yes, but it was cold and calculating. There, staring into his soul, was just a chasm of darkness. I braved leaning towards him, hoping he could see the same in me; I laid my hand on his, feeling a twitch through his muscles.

"On the contrary, Jerome," I chose a throaty whisper, in a voice I only saved for when I was alone "I'm my best self in the dark."

He doubled over in a fit of hysterics, somewhere between hacking and laughing. "Oh doll face you are a riot!" He tilted his head from the floor, strands of ginger hair falling in front of his face; the way he looked at me made me feel like I was being swallowed whole. The darkness was daring me closer, and it was all I could do not to fall in at will. "I love a girl who can make me laugh." 

A shiver ran down my spine,  turning to a fire in my core. He seemed to notice, an eyebrow raised to me in intrigue. "Don't look now doll but you're blushing!" He waggled a finger in my direction and I was annoyed to notice he was right.  What was he that he could break my act so easily? 

"I'm simply embarrassed for you and your silly jokes." I couldn't help but goad him on, his body hopping back up to a seated position, green orbs trained on my smiling mask of a face. 

"Silly, you wound me, princess," he leaned in tighter, and I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and beckoning. "Let me show you my A material. I bet I could have you howling." 

A clap of thunder outside the window popped his words, but our gazes did not sway. The voids inside us were talking, negotiating. Bargaining with the bodies they lived in. I closed the gap between us, pressing my cheek to his as my lips just barely brushed his ear.  
"I bet I'd be rolling on the floor in a fit, darling," I snapped back to my own space, his face a picture of desire. Pupils so wide the darkness practically reached for me, his mouth wet with salivation. "but I'm a bit bored. Maybe show me another day; when I'm in the mood for a clown." I stood up as gracefully as I could, despite the wetness that had pooled between my thighs. I hoped he couldn't smell my need for him, moving to leave; but he grabbed onto my skirt, staring at me from under his brow. 

"I'm no clown, sweetcheeks; remember that, or you won't be laughing long." His gritted teeth spoke to it being a threat, but my knees practically gave out from attraction. 

He was perfect.


	6. Hands off!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome isn't the only one with his sights on the ingenue.

I wouldn't say I was avoiding him exactly; more that I was aware that my character crumbled around him, and that wasn't a risk worth taking. Its hard to keep a person distracted by your body when all they want to do is stare into your eyes. Jerome was like that; whenever he caught me looking, his glare was transfixing. Our empty places spoke volumes in those looks, across the cafeteria, during recreation time; there was a rapport building in that vastness that didn't need our words. 

Not that it kept us from talking.

I had spent a large chunk of my morning meal saying no to the millionaire murderer Sionis' lackey; he'd sent my least favourite, Greenwood. Convicted and proud of having eaten 12 women, he was a frizzy, tiresome man who carried no charm.

"Mr.Sionis is running out of patience, lady," he snorted, arms folded against his chest in mock importance. "you might have the guards tamed but you need friends on your side of the fence." 

"I have plenty of friends, Mr.Greenwood," I gestured to the small circle of patients who never steered far from me, who giggled when they caught my attention. "please tell Mr.Sionis thank you, but my dance card is full." I shot him a glare to drive him off. 

"You know missy, you should be more careful; never know what we crazies might do," the words he spoke were clearly a threat, one meant to put a fear in me. But this cretin would be doing no such thing. 

"I'm well aware, sir. Let's not forget I'm one of you," my stage voice had dropped to an icy whisper, my eyes narrowed and wishing for something sharp. "and you tell Mr.Sionis that promises of harm aren't going to get him anywhere with the ladies; no matter how well it worked on the outside," my eyes watched his face, clearly defeated and furious. "you can go now." 

He turned on his heel, muttering idle threats and curses as he waddled over to Sionis' own little crew. He'd picked out some of the crazier, burliest inmates; it was clear he was only interested in muscle, not wanting any intelligence to outrank his. 

'Why on earth does he want me, then,' I questioned silently, seeing his face darken with Greenwood's new info. I turned away from the festering little gang, bored with their antics. 

"Tsk tsk, some guys just don't have a way with the ladies," a cool, boyish tone seemed to appear from nowhere. That grinning red haired visage sat across from me, his hands cradling his chin "how ya doing beautiful?"

"Good morning, Jerome," I replied in my public voice. I felt the guards' eyes on us; in his short time here he too had been making himself well known. "I'm afraid you caught me just before rehearsals, I haven't much time." 

His head quirked to the side with a question as he sat across from me, throwing his feet on the table "Whatcha talking about gorgeous? No big show to prep for in here." 

"Well no, they haven't announced the touring ballet yet, but without practice my body grows stiff," I made a spectacle of stretching my arms, his stare following every curve from my shoulder to fingertips "I need to keep nimble." 

"Oh I'm sure you're plenty nimble," he sighed, drumming his fingers against his crossed bicep. "Bet I could bend you into all sorts of shapes, just like a balloon animal." He popped his lips at the end of his sentence, resulting in a wicked little giggle. 

I did my best to conjure a blush, putting on my best abashed look. "Jerome! What a filthy thing to say," I placed a hand to my chest as if I were clutching at pearls. "how can you be so vulgar?" 

He moved his feet to the floor and tilted towards me, dark eyes peering through his brows. "Oh doll face just give me a shot and I'll show you how filthy I can be." 

I couldn't help but chuckle at his response; he reveled in his villainy; the demon in him wasn't shy, there was no need. "You have charm Jerome, but talk like that won't land you a lady like me." 

"I do believe it can and I will sweetheart," he bent in closer, eyes dancing around the room as he cupped his mouth in his hand. "let me tell you a little secret?"

In thrilling curiosity I leaned in, wondering what he could have to share. "Yes?"

"You already got the part, gorgeous," he murmurred, sparkling teeth shining at me. "you can drop the act. Nobody around here cares." 

I sat very still a moment; debating with myself to succumb to his argument or resume my act. He had seen through it, clearly; had anyone else?

'No,' I decided silently 'they wouldn't all be keeping up with this game if they knew'. I took a breath, letting the mask fall for a moment; he seemed satisfied to see my body relax, my face soften. 

"The act is the only worthwhile game to play around here, Jerome," I whispered in a low tone, though the guards seemed concerned, now unable to hear our discussion. "If you haven't noticed, this place is incredibly dull." 

"Nonsense sweetcheeks! You just gotta make the right friends," I felt his hand grip my forearm; it felt even bigger than it looked "I could be your friend. I assure you I'm very loyal." 

I raised a brow in scepticism. "Loyal? Didn't you kill your own mother to land yourself here?" 

"I can be fiercely dedicated to the right people," his eyes were narrowed and piercing. "particularly when they hold my interest." 

His hand hadn't left my arm; I noticed the pad of his thumb stroking my skin slow, but not without some pressure. "I must be  pretty interesting then," I breathed, dragging my gaze back to his face. 

"You have no idea, babe," he cooed, his grip tightening. "you are absolutely enthralling. I just can't seem to get you out of my head," his head cocked to one side, eyes wide and hungry. "I can't wait to find out what makes you tick." 

My breath caught in my throat, feeling a real blush across my face and shoulders. The world had faded from us, and all I could see was this ginger devil, this abyss made flesh staring into me. 

"Hey!" An unfamiliar voice barked in our direction; a wiry guard was walking towards us, hand on his taser. "Getting a little close for comfort, inmates; back it up."

Jerome's face twitched with rage at the guard, giving my limb a burning squeeze before letting go. "Sorry chief; you guys keep these lookers locked up with me, what can I do?" He shrugged, an easy lie of a smile on his lips. 

I pulled my mask back up, rising and walking to meet the guard. "I'm so sorry darling, we were only talking," I purred, placing a gentle hand on his chest with a flutter of lashes. "I was just offering this sweet boy some tips on hitting the big time; dreams of greatness. Isn't that sweet?" I tossed my hair as I looked back at my ginger companion, his eyes glaring daggers at my hand on the guard. 

"Yeah, that's all," he growled, teeth clenched into a grin. "don't you think we'd make a great comedic duo? We'd really kill." He cackled as the guard stiffened, obviously unnerved by the concept. 

"I wouldn't get too mixed up with this one, Brooker," the guard warned. "he's dangerous. Thinks he's funny, killing folks." 

"Don't worry dear, I'll keep my wits about me," I winked, granting the guard a vote of confidence "if all else, he'd make a lovely dance partner." 

These words chilled the guard, and he moved from under my palm. "Hands off, got that?" He muttered before going back to his station. 

"What a wet blanket," Jerome was pouting, staring in his direction and clearly wondering what the officer would look like stabbed. "just trying to be friendly."

"Bit too friendly for them apparently." My vision found his, wagging my brows "just can't be so obvious, kiddo. A good act requires subtlety." 

"Subtlety. Gotcha." He shot from his chair like an arrow, side by side with my an instant. I saw the flicker of a grin on his face before he pressed his lips to mine. 

It was unlike any way I'd been kissed before; there was aggression, in the way his tongue pried it's way past my lips and tasted mine, but talent in how he used it to coax my tongue into his. His lips were suprisingly soft, although he made up for it in the pressure against my mouth, so virile and violent. My eyes caught the dark in his screaming for me, inviting me in, daring me to join him. Not one to bend so easily, I reciprocated; sinking my teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, dragging it back to scrape and tease; the way he growled back was total insurance that he loved it. It was as if I was tasting the light  my void starved for, exquisite and irresistible. He was intoxicating, tasting his mouth, smelling his scent so close - this was a drug I would need more of, without any doubt. 

"HEY! What did I just say!?" The spindly guard was rushing back over, his face red in frustration. Only then did I pull back, just enough to catch the childish scowl on Jerome's face as if someone had taken his favourite toy. 

"Look chief, no hands!" His unabashed grin was as mocking as it was infectious, drawing a slight twinge to the corners of my mouth. He was almost in tears with laughter as the guard tugged him back by his shirt collar, slamming him back against the table. 

"I won't be taking attitude from some batshit crazy inmate like you!" The officer's blood was up, his taser charged in his second hand; he brought it down against Jerome's abdomen, his form convulsing with electricity. "Think you've had enough breakfast for one day. Maybe you can rejoin the group tomorrow," I cursed the guard as he hoisted the youth's limp body from the table, moving to carry him off. "Sorry for any discomfort he caused, Miss."

"It's quite alright, Officer-?"

He gave a little nod, a pompous half smile on his face. "Uh, it's Officer Turman, Miss Brooker."

"Turman; I'll remember that," I purred, brushing a lock of hair past my ear. I watched as the little trickster's body swayed limp as the guard hauled him off. I was never one to be interrupted in the middle of a dance.


	7. Divider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The open concept showers of Arkham asylum leave much to be desired for privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop me a line and let me know what you think ;)

~POV CHANGE~

He was in love. Head over heels. He loved how her arms and legs moved as she put on her little shows, the fake smile she plastered on to appease the morons they were housed with. He loved the color of her hair and how it moved, like a cascade of blood, always gushing. He loved how she teased, acting like she wasn't falling for him too; a blind man could see she was. For all the people who believed her story she was an awful liar; her skin would flush around him, her breath would get quicker; it was so adorable. He was not usually one for a long game, but for her, he'd play anything she wanted.

He tried to catch her eye as often as possible, but she was unyielding in that respect. She had a gaggle of psychotic fans that floated around her, providing a blockade; but every so often it would break, and the evil in her eyes joined with his. The mask was boring; Haly's had been filled with empty headed girls, just like how she acted. No, he was crazy about the woman underneath; the one who played all these suckers, the one whose eyes were black and empty. She was incredible; she was something he never thought he would find. A demon that came from the same pit that he did. He knew they'd be an unstoppable duo; he just had to make it so.

 

~POV change~

Showering was one of the quiet moments of my routine. My dancing had won me something of an entourage which meant more of the act every day. I dismissed them for one hour each day to spend this time alone. Despite the horrible, bottom of the barrel quality soap and the rubbery shower curtain that barely hung on to the rail, it was welcome.   
I left my towel on the railing across from the stalls, self assured that nobody would be bothering me. I always used the only shower that still held on to its divider, despite the light it blocked. The water sputtered out hot,  soaking into my hair and skin as I prepared a lather of the hard bar soap. My hair was always first, trying to release it from my grimy surroundings as much as I could. I shut my eyes, avoiding the suds as best I could. It was then I heard a soft footstep at the shower beside me. 

"Did someone forget this is my private time?" I wondered aloud. It wasn't the first time one of my hangers on had followed me into the showers; a kind word was usually enough to send them off.

"Hardly doll face - I even wrote it on my hand to remember," a sneering, boyish voice called from next door. Jerome. 

"Hello dear; maybe you hadn't heard but I generally take my showers in peace." 

"Oh I've heard; just pretend like I'm not even here," his voice had a soft growl to it. 

"Hard to imagine you not wanting to be the center of attention," I chided, working my fingers against my scalp to scrape away the dirt of the prison. 

"You're right doll, I never play second fiddle," What was it I was hearing under his words? "But you're the star of this show."

My ears placed it - there was a distinctive sound of skin slapping skin, combined with his husky breathing; I knew just what he was doing.

"...now what are you up to over there, Jerome," the deep purr in my voice had returned, as it always seemed to for him. 

"Can't you tell sweetheart?" His trademark laughter echoed in the tiled room, as if he were everywhere. "All I have to do is think about you, naked, covered in bubbles...my hands have a mind of their own!" 

"Idle hands are the Devil's playthings, Jerome," I murmurred, suds forming across my body through my ministrations. 

"So lucky I'm a devil then, doll face." The sound of his hand around his cock was getting louder, more aggressive; he didn't care if I heard, I suspected he wanted it. He grunted and groaned with the action; I could practically picture the thick, reddening organ he tormented.

"You hear what you do to me, doll?" He snarled, banging his fist against the dividing wall, making me jump. It was driving me wild, but I dared not act on it as he did; he'd have to work a little harder.   
"I don't even have to look at you and I'm rock hard; how do you do that? What's the trick?" 

I had all but abandoned the act of cleaning myself; my hands pressed against the partition, my ears tuned to the sounds of his excitement. "One of my many talents, funny man." 

"Oh fuck... I can't wait to play with you sweetness," he huffed as the sounds of skin on skin got more violent, spastic; he was close to losing control. "I bet you taste like candy, mm." 

All I wanted was to tell him to have a lick, rip down the wall and take his cock in every which way I knew how; patience, I told myself. 

"You'll have to wait and see, darling; good things come to those who wait." 

His pale fingers flew up to grip the top of the wall, clenching so hard that his knuckles went white "Fuck, you and your clichés... gonna shut those up when I shove my cock down y--" he choked on his breath, releasing long, low growls as the fleshy noises eased away. I listened as his breath slowed, gurgles still bubbling in his throat.

"What were you saying, Jerome? Shove your cock where?" I asked, but was met with silence. After a few seconds of nothing, I called out again; still quiet. 

I weighed the chance of him seeing me nude, deciding on the balance that it would happen eventually as I stepped out to look in the next stall. It was totally empty; no sign he'd ever been there, except for a white spatter across the dividing wall.


	8. Butcher knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun never shines on Arkham; we have to live on flames.

A day or so had passed before I saw Jerome again; this time in a very different setting. It was one of the few days we were allowed into Arkham's tiny outdoor facility; the sky was the lightest gray it was ever going to be here, the air cool but crisp. The grounds were dismal, all kicked up dirt and dead shrubbery; but past the fence were a smattering of lush trees and grass; sitting up against it was just enough for me to imagine feeling the blades between my toes. 

I was curled up there, eyes shut to concentrate on the scent of greenery, a blanket from my cell draped over my shoulders to warm me against the chill in the air. My ears caught the sound of feet crushing the dirt below, coming closer to me.

"Aren't you a picture," I looked to see Jerome taking a seat on the grey earth; again he cupped his chin in his hand, gazing in that mischievous fashion of his. "All done up with the trees and everything; it's very flower child." He threw up two fingers with his second hand. 

"Hello Jerome," I gave him a smile; one completely unlike the mask I saved for others. It felt foreign, but not unwelcome. "I see a little tasing couldn't keep you down." 

He grinned, eyes dark and trained on me "That was nothing, doll face," he leaned in a tad and I felt the heat from his breath on my skin. "besides, I like a little sting now and then. Makes the honey sweeter."

A cool wind blew threw the yard, and though he made no move to shiver I could see his skin raise goose flesh from the cold. Despite my better angels, I extended an arm to him, raising my blanket as I did.  

"Come sit by me, kiddo, you'll freeze all by your lonesome." I'd hardly finished my sentence as he crawled in close, his chest pressed against my side, an arm snaking around my waist. 

"Don't gotta tell me twice, sweetcheeks," he purred against my cheek, pulling the edge of the cover around his shoulder; it barely came past his chest, being the broadest part of him. "you're just a saint aren't you?" 

For all the showboating and forward nature of his actions, I savored having him so close. With mere inches between  us, I had the opportunity to bath in the nothingness of his stare, to sink into those pools of blackness he called eyes. I could see him doing the same, his lids fluttering in a strain against blinking. There was so much for us to discuss, so much for us to do. 

"Tell me more about what brought you here." I demanded, leaning against the chain links behind us, him following suit.

"Killed my mother; I thought you read my blurb?" He replied, his hand lazily gripping my waist. His head had tilted slightly, like he was trying to hear a whisper he just couldn't make out. 

I laughed softly, my hand finding his face and giving it a soft smack. "The author left much to be desired," I murmurred. "I want to know how. And why." 

His second hand was resting against my thigh, above the fabric of my skirt, but pressing tight into my flesh; there was insistence, but still he spoke. 

"She'd always been a slut, dear old mum," he began, twisting his face into a mocking tragic expression. "if she was drunk, she was fucking; which was almost daily. I mean her choice, right?" He looked to me, waiting for an answer. I gave a slow nod, listening attentively. "but one night, I was through cleaning the damn caravan, she was already on her second bottle and she goes 'Jerome, do the dishes!' " his mouth dropped open, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "I mean, I wait on her hand and foot, deal with her whoring herself out to every clown in the show, put up with her beatings, AND STILL she had the nerve to order me around!" 

My pulse was racing; listening to his story had me feeling now alive than I had in years. My breath had quickened, my eyes were saucers. "and then what happened?"   
He gave a little half smile, his pupils so wide I could barely see the green in his irises "She was going out. Headed into the city for more booze, more beaus... she had to cross this field. I followed her out there... took our sharpest butcher knife," he paused, making a face. "Hm. In hindsight I should have picked a rusty one. Boy that would smart!" He cackled and I couldn't help but giggle along with him, sharing the imaginary image. "Oh what a laugh," he growled, his face, his lips so near to brushing my own. "I could listen to that for hours." 

I slapped my hand against his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. "Jerome, your story. I have to know how it ends." 

"Aw sweetheart; so eager for the climax huh?" He pulled back just enough to watch my face, from chin to hairline. "The sun was already setting when I came up to her; she was nagging away, telling me off for being out, giving me a list of chores even then; she hadn't even noticed the knife until I sank it into her chest," I gasped softly, feeling a sudden gush of fire to my loins, my chest rising and falling in excitement. 

Jerome's face was almost splitting from his grin, and he took the chance he saw; he dipped his head into the crook of my neck, soft, wet lips pressing to my skin, nose breathing in my hair. "She looked so shocked; 'how could pathetic little Jerome ever do this!?' She twitched when I pulled the blade out, drove it into her again; blood shooting out all over," his words were hot against my skin, and I could feel his teeth dig lightly against the thick vein in my throat, his lips feeling my heart rate. He was driving me crazy. "like bullet holes in a barrel." 

I was panting for air now, my hand wound in the fabric across his back, the other wove through the ginger hair I'd been dying to touch. His mouth was more urgent now, desperate; his lips had opened, teeth and tongue teasing and marking my neck, discovering all the tiny spots that made me squirm. 

"Oh Jerome... I wish I could've seen it," I whispered against his ear; the proximity made him twitch, both hands now flush against my waist, holding on for dear life. "I bet it was beautiful." 

"Next time, sugar," his teeth grazed my earlobe, tongue dancing across the ridges. "I'll give you a private show." I moaned low but louder than I had intended. My eyes fluttered open just enough to catch the eyes of some nearby prisoners leering, one with his hand down his pants. 

'We must be a sight' I smiled to myself, twisting my head so he could find his way across my jaw, my cheek. Our eyes delved into each other, swimming in darkness. 

"Where have you been all my life, doll?" Were the last words that left his lips as they came crashing down on mine. I felt the same hunger he had in the mess hall, but a new urge was there, to prove himself. My mouth opened to his willingly, my tongue finding his first; I could taste a faint tinge of mint against his teeth, which closed down around my tongue, biting it just enough to hurt in the best way. A whimper rang from my throat, but it cried for more; maybe it was his youth, or his insanity - but noone had ever kissed me like he did. He was challenging, domineering; there was a feral need in his actions. Unlike any other man I'd kissed, for the first time I didn't feel in control; and I welcomed it. I dragged my teeth against his bottom lip, our eyes opening just enough for the voids inside us to meet, congratulating themselves for finding one another. 

"Good god Jerome," I breathed, holding his face in my hands. 

"I know, I know; I'm spectacular," he sighed, placing sloppy little kisses against my lips and face "but don't sell yourself short, sweetcheeks. You're delicious. Like cotton candy," he dragged his teeth against my cheek, growling deep in his chest "and caramel apples." His hands followed the curves of my hips to take a firm grip on my ass, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. I shuddered, pressing my face to his cheek. "I wonder what your pretty little cunt will taste like?" 

I nearly pushed him down and straddled his face there, had another colder gust not blown through, my skin prickling despite the cover. 

"In good time, Jerome," I promised, moving to stand. The sky had grown darker, in this case likely meaning rain. "I'd like to get back to my room before I freeze to death. Hardly a glamorous way to go, no?" I threw him my trademarked smile with a toss of my hair, offering him a hand to rise up. He took it, standing and stretching to his full height; in another life he would've ruled the stage as a dancer. I turned to step away when his hands gripped my shoulders, pulling my back against him. 

"That had better be a promise, doll face," he snarled into my ear, his arms wrapping round my chest. I could feel him grinding his erection against my backside, and even through the blanket I was impressed with what I felt. "Don't know how much longer I can wait for the main event." 

I smiled, shifting my hips back to press against his groin; his fingers tensed on my arms as a hot breath crossed my ear. "Good things come, darling," I purred, slipping just out of his grasp with grace. "to those who wait." 

His arm encircled my shoulder as we walked back to the entryway of the asylum, his long fingers digging into the rough blanket. "You know making me wait like this is just cruel, babe; I mean the amount of abuse I'm put through just thinking about you is criminal!" 

"Who on earth is abusing you?" My eyes flitted up to his face with mild concern.

"Well I am," he rolled his eyes away, a goofy smirk on his mouth. "But it's torture;  every night I wind up waking my whole block, calling your name." 

I shivered at the thought, picturing his skin flushed, those fingers around his sex; hips twitching and spasming with his aggressive deeds. I tried to shake the image from my head but knew it wouldn't go. "Oh?" I replied instead. "You remember my name? You've never used it, I assumed you'd forgotten it."

"No no, doll, I know it by heart," his free hand pressed against his chest in his theatrical way."I'm just saving it for a special occasion." He moved to open the heavy industrial doors of the building, passing two guards as we entered. He threw a passing look at them as we walked by, heat seeping back into my skin. 

"Unusual." He declared, idly stroking his thumb against my arm. 

"What's that Jerome?"

"They roll back that no touching rule or something?" He frowned, looking back at me. "Us fraternizing like this would have got me tased." 

"Oh no," I said absentmindedly, casting my practiced beam back at the guards, both of whom nodded and waved. "Those are two of mine. They aren't about to bother me or anyone with me."

He raised his brows, mouth opening slightly. "Well look at my girl go!" He released me from his hold, to my disappointment; but did so to applaud. "She's got connections, she's smart, she's  gorgeous; you'll be running this place in no time." 

"Who says I'm not?" I wondered with a chuckle, taking one of his hands to hold. It was large,  but not meaty; it swept up my fingers in its grasp, interlocking tight. 

"Heh, you got 'em wrapped round your finger don't ya? That Sionis better watch out--"

"Sionis?" I interrupted him, repeating the name. "How do you know Sionis?" 

He stopped, giving me a shrug. "He's kind of a big deal around here; gets people things in exchange for being a friend," he watched my face, now wary and distant. "He came to see me after that whole breakfast kerfuffle the other day. Liked what he saw, he said." 

"I see." I was short with my words; what he said weighed on me. I couldn'thelp but wonder if Sionis was merely looking for a way to get through to me. He had been persistent in his pursuit, but he was careful. His underlings were buff but stupid; easily controlled. Jerome was completely different; strong yes, but there was cleverness in his mind, leagues ahead of any of Sionis' minions. But maybe that was the goal? The ginger was nothing if not charming, maybe he needed that.

Maybe he already had it. 

"Hey doll face?  Hello?" He waved his hands in front of my face, catching my attention. "You know I don't like to be ignored."

"Right." I responded, pulling my blanket tight against my shoulders. "I think I'm heading back to my cell for the night. Good bye Jerome." He didn't like my excuse one bit; he caught my wrist as I tried to slip past him, my back just grazing the wall as he sandwiched me between it and his body. 

"Come on sweetcheeks, what's your hurry?" He frowned with an edge to his voice. "Something I said?" 

I tried to twist from his grip, but it was tight, nearly bruising; had it been anyone else I would've screamed. "I'm just feeling fatigued, darling; let me get my rest," his hold loosened, and I chose to add to my words. "And... try and avoid Sionis if you can. He's just using you." 

He chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Who's to say I'm not using him?" 

"He's been after me awhile, Jerome," I said quietly, unsure if any of his spies were nearby. "He could be using you to get to me." 

"Tough break for him then," he leaned in close, his chest pressed to mine; his body curved around mine, a shadow across his face making his smile all the more sinister. "I called dibs on you; and I don't share." His cool lips found mine again, still dominant but with a feeling of reassurance. I kissed him back, coiling my hand into the collar of his uniform; when I tried to pry his lips with my tongue he stepped away, that cloying little grin still plastered on. 

"Good things come to those who wait, sweetcheeks." He mocked, leaving me in the hallway. "They'll come quicker than you think!" His laughter filled the passage, vibrating off the walls long after he'd ceased himself.


	9. Keep me company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex! And Jerome couldn't be angrier about it.

I should have known better than to think Jerome would take heed of my warning. Almost the next day I caught him hanging around with Sionis' muscle, a gargantuan block of man with a simple mentality; Aaron, as I learned. He wasn't much to talk to but he would laugh at the red head's jokes, and he loved a captive audience.

He saw my eyes on the scene and whistled, beckoning me over. "Doll face!" He cried, snapping his fingers. "Come here! You gotta hear this one!"

I shook my head and turned my attentions to my task, my hands weaving in and out of a loop of string, making patterns between my fingers; it was tedious, but not nearly as aggravating as he was. I felt a little pang in my chest when I heard no footsteps closing in on me, no shadow over me. This game had reached something of a stalemate.

Increasingly bored by the string, I tossed it aside for it to be immediately picked up and torn by a wild eyed inmate who tied it into her mass of knotted hair. I cast an eye around the room, seeing one of my personal guards standing near the exit; Grandell. Couldn't recall his first name. He'd do. I turned on the starlet act, stepping like a swift little doe to him, giving him a little twirl just before him.

"Hello Officer Grandell; I'm not feeling myself just now. Perhaps you could escort me back to my cell?" I added a lilting, soft quality to my voice, just the way I had on the outside. It always worked. He smiled sheepishly, swinging the barred door open.

"Can do Miss Brooker." I wrapped an arm through his, a lock of hair twisting in my fingers. I glanced behind to see an absolutely enraged Jerome, his face red, a thick vein pulsating in his neck. His loss, I thought to myself. He'd rather play with the boys.  

I directed Grandell with me down the twisting halls of the Institute, supplying dithering small talk along the way. Like all guards, he had been supplied a heavy skeleton key to all the cells of the ward; he used it to unlock the bolt on my little cubicle. I stepped in and as he moved to shut the door between us, I caught his arm.

"Why don't you keep me company, Officer?" I placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him inside. I used an ankle to shove the door shut behind us, the lock engaging. "I get so lonely." My lashes fluttered like the dramatic ingenue I was; he enclosed his hands on my waist in the familiar, boring fashion all other men had.

Well, not Jerome.

I dismissed the thought of that annoyingly charismatic devil to focus on the normal man in front of me. His brutish fingers had already moved to the back of my dress, tugging at the buttons down my spine. _'Not even a kiss first?_ ' I grimaced as his face moved to my neck, dull and chicken like pecks coating the area. It was boring, but at least it was a feeling. I pretended a dulcet little mewl that seemed to excite him, yanking the now undone garment off my shoulders, exposing my bare bosom and white inmate underwear.

"Fuck you're so hot," he grunted, hands grabbing at my backside; there was no gentility to it, no finesse. It was all about what he felt, not how it felt to me. As if to hear my thoughts he finally realized I had lips and kissed them, just as unvaried as his earlier pecks had been.

"Oh Officer," I muttered, barely keeping up the character. My eyes were shut to his actions, his fumbling hands moving across my body; it spoke to no talent, and many unhappy women. A low noise from the door catches my attention, and my vision focused on a furious pale face and green eyes encompassing the tiny window that stared into the cell.

"Whatcha doing doll." It was a statement more than a question, seethed out at barely a whisper. Jerome's eyes had never held more anger, his teeth grinding into a white dust. I half expected him to phase through the heavy iron door. I glanced to the man who's hands were groping at my breasts; he hadn't noticed our onlooker. I cast my eyes back to Jerome, a tiny smile on my lips; I was about to win this round of our game. Invigorated by the vicious silent face that peered in, my arms went up around Grandell, pulling him flush to my chest.

"Oh Officer Grandell; I've been so alone here," I moaned as his hands tugged at the waistband of my panties. Still I watched the maniac's face, twitching as his blood boiled in his flesh.

"Don't you worry Miss Brooker, I have just what you need," his voice husked, moving to undo his belt. Still the only man who concerned me was the one stood outside my door, eyes blazing. Grandell finished shedding his last layer, a meager erection hiding in his briefs.

"You wanna move this to the bed?" I smiled my star smile, taking his hand. "Certainly; but you lie down first - there's something I've been curious to try,"I blushed, lying though my teeth. "Please be gentle with me."

"Nothin' to worry about Miss Brooker - I can be real gentle." The guard made his way to my cot, flopping down in such a way that he had no view of the door or Jerome. I cast my eyes up to the ginger demon, shaking his head furiously. I disregarded his begging and moved across the Officer, sliding his rigid little dick between my folds; hardly wet, but the prospect of Jerome watching me so livid was remedying that. Grandell groaned under me but I barely heard him, taking his hands like a puppet and placing them on my hips, just as the tip of his manhood slipped past my entrance.

The boy at the door seemed to sense the action, glaring like he was going to rip me apart. ' _Good_ ', I thought to myself, sliding my pussy down the guard's full length; it wasn't much to speak of, but it was enough for our little show. I managed a few breathy gasps, appearing as chaste as I could riding his cock, which was all he needed to tell himself he was doing a great job.

"Oh damn, Miss Brooker, you're so fucking tight," his hips bucked in an awkward style, something learned from years of him getting his. I bit my lip, more in discomfort than enjoyment, but he took it as egging him on. I ground away at his disappointing organ, eyes still on Jerome. For all the madness in his eyes, there was still lust. I remembered he had never seen me bare before; my breasts bouncing along with the rolling of my hips, blood rushing to color my cheeks, nipples and pussy. He'd have killed to be in Grandell's place; and would gladly do so if not for the damned door.

"Oh that's it Mmm! Right there!" I fibbed along with his strange, mismatched thrusts, swimming in the eyes of my audience, no attentions to my partner; not dissimilar to my dancing. I grabbed his hands suddenly, guiding them up to cradle my tits; and that was all it took.

"I don't think your position includes fucking the inmates, OFFICER." Jerome's voice shook the room at a decibel I'd never heard out of him; it was thrilling.

"Oh gracious!" I exclaimed, giving an award winning performance as I swept up a throw blanket, covering myself and jumping away from the hapless guard.

"I-Inmate Valeska! What the hell are you doing here!?" Grandell stuttered out, hurriedly trying to kick his trousers back on. "You're supposed to be in group!"

"Normally yes but you were walking off with my main squeeze, moron," he spat back "glad I came when I did; abusing your job and assaulting a prisoner!" He cackled in the coldest tone.

"I-she--" His hand found his communication radio as he tugged on his button down. He held it to his mouth barking into the receiver for help as Jerome's fists pounded against the door. "Inmate out of bounds! Back up needed! Cell B-260!"

"You think just because you're a guard you can go running off with someone's girl? MY girl?" His eyes were locked onto Grandell, still frantically trying to look presentable before his reinforcements arrived. "I'll teach you to keep your hands to yourself, bastard! You won't lay a finger on her again y--"

His body shook in the familiar spasm of subtle electrocution, his eyes rolling back before he dropped to the ground, presumably unconscious. I couldn't help my heart jumping to my throat with concern; I had no idea how much tasing a body could take. I saw movement of two other guards outside, when a a wiry face leaned into the window; Turman.

"Geez Grandell what the hell happened to get him g--" His question was immediately answered, his gaze finding me huddled in the corner of the room, stark naked but for the blanket over my chest. He looked to Grandell with some frustration, but understanding. "We'll get this one off to his cell for awhile; cool him off. Get yourselves cleaned up." I could see them hoist his body up, listening as their footsteps paraded down the hall.

"I-I am so sorry Officer Grandell, I don't know how he got there, I... I'm just so shaken!" I sobbed fake tears, my body shivering with practiced fear.

"I- It's alright Miss Brooker," he couldn't meet my gaze, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Can I... you won't be mentioning this to anyone?" He said, waving a hand between us. I gave him a sweet smile bordering on a smirk.

"I won't breathe a word, Officer. My lips are sealed." My response and demeanor seemed to quiet his worry, latching his belt back in place. 

"T-thanks. I'll..I'll leave you to your rest, Miss Brooker." Without even a handshake he left, the door heaving behind him. That inmate had put a scare in him with his promises. My face curved into a wide grin, my body filled with a mixture of terror and arousal. I could hardly wait for Jerome's reprisal.


	10. Six months

In the week past the incident, I saw not hide or hair of Jerome. Clearly another infraction had reflected badly on him. I searched for him at meal times, the recreation hall, the hidden corners of the outer grounds; that brilliant red hair was nowhere to be found. For all my excitement over his reaction, it was slowly being replaced with worry. I put on my most saccharine act for the guards, but no one spoke a word; more over, none would touch me. Not a pat on the shoulder, every handshake was rejected; even the inmates were avoiding any contact whatsoever. It became clear that with Jerome nowhere to be found, someone else must've spread the rule of "hands off". Somebody powerful.  

 

"Richard."

Talking to Sionis was nothing I had been looking forward to; but it was a means to an end. I found him ensconced with his usual lackeys, lounging in comfort at a table only ever used by him. Even the slop on his plate looked fancier than everyone else's. I played his game, choosing the cleaner of my two uniforms, choosing to bring one of the scarves from my room with me, woven into my hair. I admitted it was the best I'd looked in months. 

"Celeste Brooker. What a surprise," his gaze flickering up and down my body. "To what do I owe this visit?"

I sat delicately across from him, his minion Dobkins running his eyes all over me. I disregarded it, keeping my goal in mind. "I'm given to understand that you recently befriended Jerome Valeska. Tall, red hair?" 

"Yes I'm aware of him. He's become an associate of mine." He had a knowing little smile on his face. I wasn't about to make small talk, but he seemed to like that. 

"He's a friend of mine, as well. I've been getting concerned though; haven't seen him in days. And it's not like he skipped town and joined the circus," his eyes crinkled with a chuckle at my line. "I was wondering if you'd seen him?" 

"Hm, well now that you mention it, I suppose he has been absent a few days," he leaned back against his chair, stretching his arm across the empty seat next to him. "Also you might want to rewrite your story. To hear him tell it you're more than friends." 

"Our relationship is neither here nor there, Richard," I bent forward, leaning my chin on netted fingers. "I only want to know where he is." 

"I can do you one better; I'll take you to him." His answer surprised me; Sionis wasn't known for being generous. "Even let you in to where they're keeping him." 

My eyes watched his face; I hated the expression on it. He held the power in this conversation, and it set my teeth on edge. "What's the catch, Richard?" 

He laughed low, his underlings grinning like hyenas around him. "Celeste how long have we been in here?" 

I thought back; Arkham had been my home for six months already; when had this become normalcy? Deals brokered with the insane over steel tables. 

"Well whatever amount if time its been," he waved away the question. "This is the first time we've talked; despite many invitations to do so," he paused, casting his vision back to me. "Why is that? Is Jerome really that important?" 

The question weighed on my mind, thinking of my answer. For the short time we'd spent together, he had all but taken over my thoughts. The evil in me matched his, and being kept apart from him now it was shrieking. It surprised me in that moment that I didn't want him, so much as I needed him. When had that happened? 

"Yes." My eyes were hard and drilled into Sionis, and I could swear I saw his hairs raise on his arm.  

"Then now it's just a matter of figuring what he's worth." He cackled; his voice was like old grease in my ears. "You know, I don't plan to be here forever. And when I leave, I intend to take a few friends with me." 

I listened carefully to his offer. "How about this; you and Jerome can have your little fling in this cesspool," he grimaced, scanning the room. "but when I leave, you come with me. And your life is mine." He eyed me carefully, watching my face twitch at the question. "Oh and don't think about telling him about this deal; he comes for me, he'll be dead." 

"How dare you!?" I tried to keep myself calm but couldn't help raising my voice. "You think you can buy my life? I'm not some product to be traded around you little stain, all I have to do is wait til he's--" 

"Til he's out of the hole?" Richard finished my sentence. "I think you're underestimating the power I have around here, Celeste. At my word he could remain in that hole forever; at my word, he could have an 'accident'. You make this deal, I swear you two kids can do whatever your little hearts desire in here!" He leaned in close again. "If the little nut is really worth it."

My mind spun with thoughts. How dare he offer what amounted to be slavery? Who was he to think he could buy me with Jerome? 

Why was I considering it. 

"W...when were you going to go?" I whispered low, out of earshot of the guards. 

"My people on the outside should have everything in place in about six months," he was growing impatient, wanting an answer. "Is he worth that? Signing your life away for half a year with the kid?" 

Still my eyes would not leave him; the darkness in me was boiling, but I already knew my answer. For the years I'd spent playing the part of the idiotic prima donna turned mad starlet, it took landing me in Arkham to find someone who saw me. Everything about me. 

"Deal." 

 

Sionis wouldn't bring me to Jerome's hiding place until night had fallen; he and Aaron came to my cell with a guard's skeleton key. I had chosen to keep my outfit from the day on and pristine; why waste looking so good on someone so measly as Sionis. 

"Ready to see your flame?" His hollow voice echoed in my ears as we walked through the dark, quiet asylum, lead past the male cell block and into the solitary unit. The doors were numbered 1-10, and we came to stop at the ninth. Sionis withdrew a different key from his pocket, unlatching the bolt that held the cell shut. 

"There you go, Celeste. We'll be back by morning," he smiled as I stepped into the padded room. "See if there's anything left of you." The door slammed behind me, the lock engaging once more. 

The only light was emitted from a single window, several feet up the wall. Almost every corner swam in darkness. I put my hands out, feeling around in the nothingness, hoping Sionis had not just left me in here to rot. With every step, I found the whole floor coated in padding; I couldn't help but find it funny that the rubber rooms we were threatened with were no in fact rubber. All I heard was silence, not even a breath; until suddenly, my outstretched hands came in contact with a familiar heat; a body held within buckled restraints, chest rising and falling with silent breaths. 

"Doll face."


	11. Sorry sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agneta chances face time with a devil in pale moonlight.

His familiar drawl drove a warm feeling to my core. I desperately wanted to kiss him, unlatch the straitjacket;  but the scene he'd been punished for days earlier was likely running wild in his head. He stepped forward into the glow of moonlight, illuminating his thick red hair like it was fire. 

"That was quite the show the other day sweetcheeks," his growl was low in his chest, a blaze of fury burning in it. "Your partner was kind of lacking though." 

I backed away from him, trying to read his face in the lack of light. All I could see was the moonbeams glinting off his teeth;  but on him, a smile could mean anything. I wasn't one to back down though, least of all to him - my equal. 

"You didn't want to play with me, Jerome," I purred, my stare trained on his face. "You found a new stage. Surely you didn't expect me to play all by myself?" 

He took another step, this one angry and swift. "That's just what I expected, gorgeous," he snarled through grinning teeth. "You're mine; nobody else can touch you." 

"How can you say that, Jerome," I breathed, my hands finding the first buckle on his chest, my fingers playing at it as I strained to watch his face. "You haven't even put your hands on my naked body," he pushed his chest upward, but this wasn't my task. With a long step I pushed him back, an angry grunt leaving him. "You haven't licked my little cunt," I leaned up to his ear, breathing heat against it "it tastes just like honey. I checked." I felt his mouth open as a groan escaped his lips, agonizing under his restraints. "You haven't even fucked me yet; made me squirm, scream your name. Made me yours," I let my hands drift downwards to his hips, happy to find a growing stiffness under the fabric. I undid the laces that held him back, he moaned long and low against my ear, his panting aggressive and threatening. "We've skipped alot of firsts for you to be claiming me as yours, haven't we Jerome?" 

"You're real cute sweetheart, you know that?" He grunted as my hand withdrew his manhood from his pants; oh he felt so good in my hand. Hot, insistent, hard as diamond. I ran my fingertips up and down its length; my earlier impression had been correct. "Your little song and dance doesn't excuse y-your whoring around." His breath hitched as I ran my thumb over the smooth head of his cock, massaging the juices already secreting from the tip. 

"No," I agreed, brushing his lips with mine; he leaned in for more but didn't find it. "But this might." In an instant I dropped to my knees, one hand on his base, guiding his head into my mouth. He moaned so loudly, filling my ears as my tongue danced across his sex. The salty taste of hot skin, mixing with the bitterness of his seed; it just nearly drove me mad. 

Focus, I told myself, as my head began bobbing along his length; I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard as I withdrew, releasing as I slid back down. His hips twitched with my actions, practically howling. 

"Oh fuck sugar, th-this is definitely helping," he snarled, beginning to time his thrusts with my mouth. I smiled around his cock, utterly coating him in my mouth, my hand tugging against the base for complete coverage. I had never been all that interested in sucking dick, but his was like candy; delicious, addictive and I would always want more.  I devoured him, losing some control as my bottom teeth scraped against the thick vein pulsating on my lips. I looked up to see his response, to find his head dipping back in a wild growl. 

"Oh do that again, doll!" He chuckled and gasped as I bit down slowly, the hard organ barely compressing under my jaw; I slid backward, scathing the skin as it pulled back with me. "Oh baby you have done this before." 

I moaned in agreement, removing my hand to slip him as far down my throat as I could manage; an eager thrust on his part brought my lips against his pelvis. I gagged and choked but forced myself to stay; I drowned in this amazingly full feeling. He would feel like this everywhere I guessed. My eyes welled and my vision swam, finally forcing me to release him, gasping for breath. 

"Wow, anyone ever tell ya what a talent you are?" He muttered, his own breath quick and ragged. 

"Maybe you have an eye for it." I wasn't about to stop, returning his sweet cock to my lips, kissing and licking to reinvigorate the organ, from mild to rock hard. He pushed forward again, allowing me to cease my movements as he fucked my mouth; he had no regard for any teeth, sputtering, choking; he was close and I could feel it. 

My hands found their way to the hem of my skirt,  raising it to gain access to my soaked panties. I whimpered as my digits found my clit, coated in my own pleasure, applying heavy circles to the ball of nerves. My other hand made itself busy, filling my gushing pussy with two fingers, wishing it were him. 'No,' I admonished inwardly; 'you've got all night'. My body reacted to my hands, hips bucking and rocking against them, Jerome's still bucking into my mouth. He was growing faster, more erratic in his thrusts - he snarled with every push, my fingers growing wetter and faster as his cock swelled in my mouth. 

"Mm sugar hope you're ready," his words were broken in with moans; my mouth eager and open. "I love an act with a big--" he lost his speech entirely, body lost to spasms as he came, filling my mouth with the sweet hot seed I'd worked for. Bitter as it was I gulped it down greedily, knowing this taste cemented my need for it. He kept his hips pressed forward as the final drops pumped from his manhood, his muscles twitching and writhing as he finally drew away. "...finish." He sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him. 

I smiled, removing my hands from their places as I stood, wiping my excitement on my dress. "Apology accepted?" I asked, running a finger across my lips, careful to scoop any lingering beads and swallow them gladly. 

"Oh sweetie, all is forgiven," he sighed. I smiled with some caution. "Listen darlin', how about you undo these straps and I repay the favor? Least I could do." 

I tentatively placed a hand on the buckles at his chest, biting my lip. "You have to promise you've let this go, Jerome. Can you do that?" I asked, already sliding the strap from its hold. 

"I promise, sweetcheeks; cross my heart, hope to die." His voice was so gentle and kind that it barely sounded like him. With a breath I made quick work of the belts along his front and back, unzipping the front as his arms slid from the garment; he was bare beneath, moonlight glowing off of creamy,  chiseled shoulders. 

"Oh that's heaven," he groaned, rubbing his wrists and stretching his arms. "Hey babe, guess what?" I had no answer for him; like lightning he had me pinned against the door, my pointed toes dangling with his hands around my throat. "I lied."


	12. Mine.

"J-Jerome..." I croaked, my nails clawing at his grip; it only tightened around my neck. 

"Ah ah ah, sugar - time for my monologue," he clicked his tongue in a disappointed tone, delighting in my gasps and tears. "As talented as that pretty little mouth is, you need to learn your lesson." As his hold strengthened mine lost grip, barely holding onto his wrists. "I am not one to share a stage, babe; my star just burns too bright. It's a gift and a curse." My vision started to spot. "But then I met you. The stab happy starlet, with the black beast in her eyes; what a dame!" My cries grew hoarse. "Finally somebody worth sharing a double act with. Only to find she's gone running around with the stage hands!" His face started to swim just as he withdrew one hand from my throat. "Can't have that now. No; everyone has to know that she. Is. Mine." His free hand dipped down to grip my leg, hauling it up and around his hip; he raised his brows, taking my cue to follow suit with its twin. I gasped as the pressure began to subside from my neck, burning with what would no doubt be bruises in the morning. My clothes caught between us, I heard a loud tearing sound from behind me as the garment loosened on my body. I hurriedly pulled my arms from the sleeves as he eagerly pulled it all away; his free hand sliding up to my breast, gripping and pinching at an already stiffened nipple. 

"One down," he grinned, leaning down to take the little bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and drawing his teeth around it. I arched against his face, a moan catching in my throat against his hand. I could feel his sex hard again, pressing urgently against my inner thigh. My body wriggled as he moved his interest to my second breast, just as merciless in his bites and kisses. 

"J-Jerome...please..." I called in a rasped whisper, my hands finding his arm again. With a final bite, he released my throat and closed the gap between us, his hard chest pressed up to myself. My arms wound under his, digging my nails into his flesh. 

"Please what, gorgeous?" He growled, his mouth curled into a smile. One hand held me aloft, fingers squeezing my ass; the other tugging the damp, white cotton away from my cunt, sliding his length threw my slick folds. He hummed low, relishing the feeling as much as I did. "Whatcha want? Use your words." 

I was ruined. Held tight against this beautiful, horrible creature was so utterly intoxicating; my mind was filled with him, just as my body would be in mere seconds. All I had to do was give the order. 

"P-please Jerome, I need you," I gasped, my nails so deep in his back I could feel drops of blood on my fingertips. 

"Need me to what? Get you a snack? Tell you a joke?" His tip bobbed at my opening, threatening to split me in two. "Darlin' you gotta be more specific." 

I found his eyes; the dark in both of us was practically touching, inches away and roaring for that final connection.  With all the nerve in me I mustered my words as clear as could be.

"I need you to fuck me! Please Jerome, make me yours!" I whined, dragging my hands down his back, eliciting a deep laugh in his chest.

Then let's get started." In a single deep stroke, he parted my lips and filled me completely. Even with the preparation of my hands, his size and length stung; but he was right, it made the honey all that sweeter. I held on to him as tight as I could, gasps leaving my heaving chest with excitement. Our eyes still locked, the darkness had connected; we plunged into the feeling together, grinning like fools at one another. 

A jolt shot through me as he pulled back, thrusting in deeper, harder; as much as I loved it this was part of my punishment. He pounded against my most sensitive spots with abandon, stretching me to fit his cock, over and over. A sound rumbled in his chest as he threw himself into me, both hands now digging into my backside, revelling in teaching his lesson. 

"You feel that?" He barked, his eyes wide and demanding. "This is the last cock that will ever fill you; I'm gonna mold your cunt to fit only me." He bent his head and sank his teeth into my shoulder, incisors breaking skin. 

"Y-yes Jerome... oh god noone has ever fucked me like this," I groaned, holding his head in place, fingers running through his deep ginger mane as our bodies jumped to the rhythm of his hips. 

"There's no god here," his voice was so low and gravelly it was like a demon. He filled my ears with his voice, my nose with his scent, my mouth with his name. "I'm the only God you pray to now - and I can - be - quite - vengeful." He threw himself into me as hard as he could manage, emphasizing his order with a jab against my deepest point.  

"Yes Jerome, yes... oh don't stop, it's perfect!" I screamed, my legs like a vice grip around him. He grinned, spurred on by my praise; lifting me ever so slightly to bring me down on his length as he pressed upwards. My hands found his face, holding it in place and staring into his dilated pupils, wild and hungry; no amount of each other would ever calm this feeling, we had both accepted it silently. I rolled my hips against him as my inner walls began to tighten, so close to falling over the edge. 

"Jer-Jerome I'm so close, I--" 

"That's it baby, let go, come for me," he growled, his speed never ceasing. "You're mine now, nobody else will ever have you." My mind went blank as my screams filled the room, repeating his name over and over as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, my orgasm shaking every inch of my body. He thrust through the incredible clamp that my pussy held on him, feeling him swell once more. 

"Oh yes... you're all mine, oh Celeste--!" My head swam with delirious excitement as I heard my name on his lips, crushing me between the door and his body as his seed filled me, coating every little nook inside me. He couldn't seem to stop thrusting; his grunts softening as he did, reluctant to release me from his grip. When his cock finally slipped from inside me, I felt an emptiness; but not without satisfaction, knowing the sin we'd committed. He let go first, his hands leaving my ass to reach around my waist, holding me close as my feet again found the floor. I breathed deeply, drinking in the hot musky smell of his sweat, my face pressed against his shoulder. 

"Mine." He stated, his arms tugging close. 

"Yours," I nodded, his hand finding my hair. "Mine." I added, looking up at him. 

He beamed down at me with his boyish, murderous charm. "Sure, why not?" He squeezed a hip in his hand, biting his lip. "I mean with a woman like this, who needs groupies?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What so you think ;) 
> 
> Also who's ready for more ginger goodness tonight!?


	13. The right call

He let go to lounge back against the pads of his room, tucking his flaccid manhood back into his breaches, tugging on the laces without tying them back in place. I moved to pick up the tattered garment as Jerome wagged a finger at me, his lips pouting. 

"No need for that sweetheart; you look gorgeous au naturel," he formed a square with his fingers, peering through it with one eye. "In fact, lose those panties; hardly any need now, eh?" 

I smiled, hooking my fingers into the waist, rolling them down my legs and stepping from them. As I stood Jerome sighed, a hand pressed against his chest. 

"Beautiful," he declared. "My beautiful moonbeam." 

I laughed, joining him in his position; my head on his shoulder, an arm and leg cast over his physique. "Moonbeam?" I repeated with a smirk. "That's awfully sentimental of you, isn't it?" 

"What can I say, I'm a big softie deep down." The smile on his face was one of my favourites; it held the most charm, the demon at its best behaviour. His hand lazily stroked my back, enticing fatigue into my outer limbs and sore center. He noticed my eyes fluttering and brought his second hand to my face, giving me a pinch. 

"Hey now sugar, no falling asleep now," the grin on his face gained an element of mischief, his hand trailing down to tweak my nipples. "We've got a long night ahead of us. Don't you wanna hear me say your name again?" 

I couldn't help but agree with him; hearing him growl my name between those perfect teeth was just as relieving as him finally filling me. I loved how it sounded out of his throat, the hiss of it. 

"I do, Jerome... but given how excited you were, I'm a bit sore,  and very drained." I looked at him through my lashes, barely keeping them open. He pouted but moved his hand away, cradling the back of his head with it. 

"You'll have to learn to deal with being sore, sweetheart," he gave my shoulder a squeeze; I tensed feeling a sudden burning. I looked to see a perfect imprint of his teeth, some bloodied some bruising, forming a ring on my skin. It occurred to me my throat was likely beginning to color the same way. "I may be a hopeless romantic but I'm not exactly gentle." 

"So I've noticed," I raised a brow at him, my hand finding my neck, touching it gingerly. "About the guard, Jerome, I--"

"Tsk tsk let's not ruin a perfect evening bringing up the past," his hand tightened on my shoulder, pulling me in tight to him.  "I'm sure you've learned your lesson."   
   
I matched his embrace, nuzzling my head against his chest; the heartbeat within was still quick with excitement. "Oh definitely," I whispered, his fingers lacing through my hair. 

"How'd you manage this little visit anyway?" His question put a chill through my spine, knowing what I'd traded for him. I knew if I told him the truth, he'd go mad and try to kill Sionis; and with all his spies, he was just as likely to end up dead. Still, an out and out lie wouldn't fool him. 

"I spoke with Sionis... your friend has alot of power here, you know." I responded, tracing little circles across his skin. 

"The big cheese? Really?" His head raised to look at me, a sceptic look in his eyes. "Thought you didn't want a friend like Sionis." 

"He made the right offer," I purred, pushing myself up to place a kiss against his mouth; he pressed back, tongue darting along my lips; still so impetuous. "I had to see you. That's all." 

He didn't look convinced. "If I know that grease ball he wanted something from you," he watched my face for any signs of wavering. "What did he ask you for?" 

I had a decent lie ready; hoping he would buy it. "I promised him my estate," I replied in an earnest voice. "It's not going to do much for me anymore, being here and all."

"Your estate?" He repeated, confusion on his face that he tried to hide. He'd never had to deal with these sorts of things, given his previous life.

"My money," I explained. "As the prima ballerina of the Gotham ballet, I made a pretty comfortable life for myself. Enough so that I had a fortune if I needed it." 

"Well look at that, she's smart too!" His mouth broke into a grin, planting a kiss on my cheek; a tiny wet spot left behind. 

I gave a bashful little beam. "You know Sionis; can always use more money," my lips found his again, a hungrier kiss this time. "I don't need it anymore; I'm fine so long as I have you." There was truth in that. With just a few months left with him, it would have to sate me for the rest of my life. If tonight was any indication, a few months could be just enough. He caught his hand in the crook of my knee, pulling me overtop of him; his digits danced along my legs, determined to touch every inch of me. Bathed in moonlight he practically shone, his teeth gleaming. 

"Aren't you a savvy shopper?" He teased, his grasp finding my waist, pulling me downward to his lips. I gladly bent for him; I could kiss him forever and it wouldn't be enough. 

He held me there, one hand against my back to keep me flush against him. I smiled into his skin, relieved for now that he had believed me. "I do love a good deal."

"Look no further then sweetcheeks; you found the best bargain in the house!" He chuckled and placed kisses across my shoulders; stinging as he crossed his bite, but it was a feeling I could become accustomed to. "Smart, hilarious, unstoppable murderous intent - and a handsome devil to boot." 

"I made the right call." My words were as much for him as they were for me; assuring myself that our brief time together was worth the deal I'd struck. I had to keep telling myself that; or I would completely lose myself.


	14. Just like honey

My body was heavy with sleep when I felt movement between my legs. Stirring, I moved to stretch my limbs; to find my hips held down. My ears registered a soft wet sound, accompanied by Jerome's voice exuding little grunts, muffled. The feeling at my core finally sank in, realizing the sensation of a tongue and lips dipping into my entrance, tracing and tasting. I released a drowsy moan, opening my eyes to the sunrise, my hands descending to weave through his hair.

"You are a heavy sleeper," he giggled against me, running his tongue through my lower lips, enticing another cry from my lips. "Have to say though sugar, you were right. Just like honey." His speech ended and he returned to his work, his soft tongue working little rings around my clit, forcing my hips up into his mouth. 

"Mm... just couldn't wait?" I purred low, him joyfully lapping away, stealing every drop of my excitement that he could.  

"I could smell you," his words vibrated against me as he slid his tongue from my hole to the little bundle of nerves at the top of my sex, his mouth closing around it and sucking greedily. I whimpered and pulled his hair tight, flush against my cunt. "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to eat." 

He did just that, teeth drawing against the sensitive little hood, making me with and stretch my legs; his grip only grew tighter, hands grasping at the flesh of my thighs. "Mm Jerome that's perfect." I praised, meaning it in earnest. He had quite the talent, his violent,  confident nature adapting perfectly to the act, ravaging me despite the ache from the previous night's events. I jolted as his tongue filled me again, twisting and tasting every inch he could reach. 

"Mmm... honeybee you are delicious," his voice growled low, diving into me with greed and craving. My body arched up as I felt his arm move, followed by two fingers sliding into my entrance, raw and used but under his ministrations I could only beg for more. He curved them upwards, pressing against the spongy, delicate spot inside that held the most pleasure, running his fingertips over it again and again. My moans were beginning to turn to screams, again his name like a prayer on my lips.  

"Morning, kids," I was bolt upright in a second; Jerome's head was still buried between my legs, but his eyes looked to the door, irked. "Time to head out, Miss Brooker. You're gonna miss count." 

"Give us a minute!" He shouted with annoyance in his voice, his tongue and mouth finding me again with infuriated vigor. I groaned as he applied another finger to his efforts, his lips sealed around my clit with vacuum pressure. In spite of my conscience embarrassed by the ears listening in, he pursued my orgasm like a hunter; his eyes leering through his brows; watching and waiting for me to release. 

With a low rumble in his throat, he rolled his tongue in heavy circles around my clit, his fingers pressed up and prodding my pleasure spot so fiercely he almost ripped through me; I shrieked as his technique finally threw me past the point of no return; I nearly ripped the hair from his scalp as I pushed him in, his nose crushed against my pelvic bone and my legs squeezing his head tight.

He pulled away without much follow through, licking the excess of fluid from his fingers. He grinned, kneeling back on his calves, marvelling at my body, used and named as his. 

"Some guys always want to ruin the punch line," He laughed, reaching for his straitjacket as my bosom rose and fell coming down from his high. "Put this on; don't think your look from last night has any staying power." He directed a thumb to the heap of stripes that lay in tatters by the door. I took the restraints from him, sliding it on and zipping the front; just enough for him to glimpse the tops of my breasts. The sleeves hung low on my arms, as they were meant to, and the hem of it barely covered my ass. 

"Nothing a little needle and thread won't fix, Jerome," I stood on wobbling legs, retrieving the destroyed garment from its place. As I reached for my panties he was quicker; snapping them up and holding them behind his back. 

"These are my souvenir, gorgeous," his teeth were bared in that annoying, boyish smile. "Something to remember our first show together." His empty hand caught my chin, guiding my mouth to his in a firm kiss. I could taste faint traces of myself on his lips, supple and soft from their task. I pressed against him, my hands fumbling to hold him through the heavy fabric of the jacket. 

"Get out of here soon," I instructed, my incapacitated hands cupping his face. "Good behaviour will get you a long way." I winked, turning to the door and giving it a heavy knock. Just before it opened,  he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of flesh, growling in my ear. 

"I play a much better villain,  doll face." I listened to his laughter ringing through the hall as one of Sionis' minions walked me to my cell, visibly surprised by the state I was in; bruised, battered and swimming in endorphins. The male inmates whooped and hollered as we passed their ward, struck by my long bare legs and wild hair, scarf barely clinging in its place. Let them enjoy the show, I thought smiling. This is only the first act. 

Safely back in my cell just minutes before count, I shed the jacket from my form and walked to my mirror; the dull sunlight casted a shine on my body, bringing to light the broken capillaries and purple bruises across my flesh. Near exact handprints graced my neck like jewelry, violet gems. The bite on my shoulder still smarted, but I loved it nonetheless. My skin was covered in him; and it was a feeling I'd always want. 

~POV CHANGE~

As one of Sionis's paid off guards hauled Jerome back to his room, his head buzzed with the activities of the night 2 days prior. Her perfect curves and crevices in the moonlight, the way his hands had left intoxicating bruises across her throat. He thought of how the blood dripped from her shoulder; like rubies beading on her skin. More than anything he remembered how she felt; how supple her flesh was, the strong, often trained muscle underneath. How it felt to fuck her for the first time - sopping wet, tight and smooth walls hugging his cock - like he was desecrating an angel. 

'She's no angel,' he laughed at his own thought as the two moved down towards the male ward. She certainly wasn't; she had sought him out, must have known how he would react to her little show. Still she'd come; he weighed whether it was through love or insanity that drove her there, deciding it must have been both. The black chasm that was her soul had dragged her with it to his own, her heart and mind willing captives to join it. The darkness in one another scared neither of them; they were it, and united could engulf all the light in the world. He frowned a moment, irritated at the idea of their limitations. Everyone in here was on the range of crazy; they'd already experienced the turmoil of losing their minds first hand. There was no value in enveloping Arkham in darkness when all there were already blind - no, they needed to remove all chains of light and sanity from a much wider audience. He had to see what she could do, and a caged bird won't sing so beautifully as when it is freed to fly at will. 

'We both deserve more,' he decided as they neared his cell. 'We deserve all of Gotham' he could see it in his mind's eye, the city sank into the dark, nothing but moonlight to illuminate their sins. They would create a new kingdom over which they would reign; the king and queen of nothingness. He laughed low as the bribed guard unlocked his cell, catching his attention. 

"Gift from Sionis and your girlie in there," he couldn't bring his eye to meet Jerome's; what resided inside was too shameful for him to acknowledge. "For good behaviour." 

"Awe, did they finally get me that pony I've been asking for?" He clasped his hands in a fake giddiness, chortling as he entered his prison; only to stop abruptly, eyes wide and locked onto the apparent gift. 

In the middle of his floor, tied and gagged with prison sheets, were his two favourite officers; Turman, with his penchant for tasing him, and Grandell, guilty of... his blood boiled to think of what he'd done, how much effort it had took to erase his deeds from her skin with his own. Both had been roughed up, bearing bruises and a handful of cuts across their faces; a  slip of paper stapled to Turman's meaty cheek. He reached out and ripped it from his face, in sighting a squeak of pain. He studied the note, concluding it to be her handwriting: 

Hey kiddo,

Sorry again for before. Thought you might like a little fun. Look under your pillow for a helping hand. See you soon. 

Love, Celeste 

He pressed the paper to his chest, gazing down at the terrified guards. "What a woman, eh boys?" He chuckled as he moved to his bed, lifting the pile of stuffing called a pillow to find the third part to his gift; a rusty butcher knife. "Oh she remembered!" There was a playfulness in his tone as he lifted the weapon, relishing the weight in his hand. He turned back to the guards, still trying to convince themselves they weren't going to die. He grinned, picking out Grandell to start with; he leaned in close, eye to eye with him as his blade found his victim's stomach. 

"I have the best girlfriend."


	15. Business arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeste ponders the choices she's made in Arkham.

I was unsure whether it had been under Sionis' order that Jerome was released back to general population, given it was mere days before he reappeared. When he saw me in the mess hall, he picked me up and swung me around like a doll, laughing the whole time. 

"Miss me, darlin'?" He murmurred against my ear, hand brushing against the now greenish yellow marks on my neck. "What am I saying, of course you did." 

I gave him a little smile, watching the guards around us; all had averted their gaze, making themselves busy with some minor task. Sionis, however, would not look away; it unnerved me. A part of me wondered if he intended for Jerome to find out about the deal, if only for a means of killing him. I hoped it wasn't the case. 

He took my hand in a childlike grip, pulling me over to the billionaire's exclusive table.  "I believe you all know MY sweetheart here, boys?" He looked into the faces of all the henchmen surrounding us, barely stifling the secret themselves. "She and I are going steady now, so nobody better lay a finger on her." 

Sionis had a knowing little sneer playing at his lips, dull grey eyes laughing at him. "Good for you, kids. Young love." He raised a paper cup of water to us, Jerome grinning back in return. 

I forced a tiny smile onto my face but my eyes held no love for the CEO across the table. Jerome's lips pressed firm against my cheek with a kiss and I could feel a smile form there. I couldn't help but catch the same giddy feeling. 

"I've been meaning to say, Miss Brooker, lovely job on the dress," Sionis offered. I glanced down at the mismatched stitches that had reassembled the torn up piece, black and white thread intersecting and ruining the stripes. "It's very avant garde."

"Thank you Richard," I tried to maintain a polite demeanor, talking to him. "I...I'm quite grateful to you for getting me the supplies to fix it." Jerome's hand squeezed my waist, fingers playing with a row of stitches. 

"See? A friend who can get you things," he smiled, leaning his forehead against mine. "I knew you'd come around." I caught his face in my palm, placing a kiss against his lips. 

"She just needed the right incentive." Sionis' smile rivaled Jerome's in its twisted enjoyment. I could have spat at him, jumped across the table and torn his eyes out right then and there; I held myself in nonetheless. 

"Right, yes... Jerome, darling I think I might head back to my room; I'm not feeling quite right." I kissed his cheek softly, rising from my place. He caught my skirt in his hand; reminding me of our first conversation. 

"Aw sweetheart, not feeling well? I've got an injection that'll make you feel loads better!" He chuckled throwing his head back, Sionis' men joining him in his laughter. It stopped suddenly as my hand made quick contact with his face in a smack. 

"No need to be vulgar, Jerome." I said softly, turning on my heel to leave. I knew I would pay for that later, but I wasn't about to become a joke to men so much lesser than me, lesser than him. That slap had shut them all up, I praised myself as I walked through the passageways to my cell. Sionis had kindly supplied me with a copy of the skeleton key for the ward. I found it odd he had not asked for anything in exchange for these further favours; but with my life already signed over to him, what more could I offer? 

Finally alone, my head was sick and full of whirring thoughts and questions. When had Jerome become so important to me? Somewhere between his corny jokes, rakish charm and void filled eyes, he had consumed me. It was unfamiliar territory; I had always held control, always had the upper hand. Had I always been so eager to relinquish that? The blackness in him did match that inside me; when he looked into my eyes and saw the nothingness, he didn't shy or run. He embraced it, relished it. The way his evil reached for mine was indescribable. 

I had signed my life away for him. 

 

It ran through my head over and over again. I had traded the rest of my days for just six months with Jerome; it baffled me thinking of it now. He was an addiction, one that in half a year I would be forced to quit. I wasn't certain I could do it; could I handle this? Drowning myself in this ginger demon, to have it all ripped away from me? My head fell into my hands at the prospect. I made my way to my cot, staring up at the stained and spotted ceiling. The darkness in me itched; for blood, for him; I tried to quell the feeling, none of it benefitting my situation. 

Lying there I imagined a different life for us. A daring escape, a safe house; terrorizing Gotham. I surmised that with him on my arm, I could finally put the ditzy enjenue act to bed; be my real self. My best self. It would be chaos, a reign of blood and horror that only we could inflict. It excited me to no end. I dwelled on these thoughts as my eyes grew heavy, drifting off to sleep where Sionis was nothing. It was just darkness and flaming red hair. 

A heavy rapping at my door stirred me from slumber; hours had passed, the light low in the room. I rubbed my eyes and stretched my sleepy limbs, yawning wide.

"Sugar?" Jerome's voice called out from the hall. "Lemme in, doll." He was firmer in his tone; more of an order than a request. I crossed the room to my door, heaving it open; there he stood, dapper in stripes, a hand behind his back. 

"Hey there gorgeous," he winked, tossing me an easy smile. "You gonna invite me in?" 

I leaned against the doorframe, my arms crossed at my chest. "Depends," I replied, his brows furrowed. "You still sore about this morning?" 

"That little swat? Of course not darlin'," he rolled his head down, looking at me through his lashes and putting on a little pout. "I was being a poor sport. So I got you these!" 

He thrust his hand out from its hiding place, presenting me with a gift; ten fingers, bluish and bloody, tied with twine. It looked as if they'd been ripped from the joints. 

I took them from him with tender hands, examining them with a morbid fascination. "Oh my," I breathed as he snuck past me, casting his eyes around the room. "Whose were these?" 

"That handsy little guard," he made his way to the mirror, licking his teeth and baring them, checking for specks. "Told him he wouldn't touch you again; I try to make good on my promises." 

I couldn't help but smile; this was an near he'd ever get to bringing me roses. I set the bundle of digits down on the steel shelf by my bed, spots of clotted blood clinging to my hand. "Lovely, Jerome."

"I try," he picked up a book from a cabinet at the foot of the cot, thumbing through it. "Golly, you're about living in the lap of luxury over here, ain't ya?" His fingers played across my bedspread, rubbing it between his hands. "Whose dick do I have to suck to get this in my digs?"

I laughed, joining him by the bed; I had a feeling it would be our final destination in this visit. "Like I said; good behaviour gets you a long way, kiddo." He stood back at his full height, watching me closely. 

"In that case I'll just have to pop in here more often; can't change my nature for a few measly amenities," his hand shot out, pulling me into him by the waist. "You'd like that now wouldn't you, sweetcheeks? I could come see you every night." His face was inches from mine, his breath hot my skin. "Fuck you within an inch of your life, wake the whole block. Cuddle." 

I giggled in spite of myself, my darkness connecting with his through our stare. "Sounds delightful, J. Is that what you're looking for right now?" My arms wound around him, feeling the taut musculature of his back with one hand while the other gave a firm squeeze of his backside. 

"We'll get to that; but first! Business," He smiled, letting go and falling to my bed in a gangly mass. I followed suit, tucking a leg underneath me as I sat. "What would you say to us gettin' outta here?"


	16. All choked up

I was surprised by the question to say the least. Of all those I'd spoken to in my time at Arkham, Jerome always seemed the most comfortable in his surroundings; he was made for incarceration.

"...out? As in breaking out of Arkham?" I wondered to him, my face moving in a confused expression. "Thought you enjoyed a captive audience." 

"It's been a barrel of laughs here, really," he waved his hands before him. "But my talent is just too big for this little old nuthouse. It demands a grander stage. And I could always use a lovely assistant in my capers." He took my hand in his, applying the softest grip I'd ever felt from him. With this question I possibly had a loophole out of life with Richard Sionis. 

"When were you thinking of flying the coop?" I asked, lying across the width of the bed; he did the same, propped up on a fist against his chin. 

"I was thinking a month or so; get the people here killed that need killing, all that." My heart leapt at the time frame; a 5 month window before Sionis felt prepared to leave, 5 months to run. 

"How do you see us doing it?" I asked.

"Well I'd be laid back like this, and you'd be bouncing up and down on m--" I swatted at his head, mussing his hair. "Kidding, gorgeous. I doubt it'd take too much to disarm one of these pathetic guards, I mean I defingered one without any effort,"  I laughed at his new word. "and between the two of us, we could sneak our way out. Anyone tries to get in the way - bang." He pointed a finger towards me, mimicking a shot. 

It was a crude plan; barely had the bones to be called a concept. With a little tweaking it could work though. He was watching me expectantly, waiting for my reaction. I leaned forward and grabbed him by the back of his head, kissing him. 

"Count me in." I whispered across his lips, a smile spreading across them. With his free arm he hauled me over him, putting himself flat on his back, me just over his hips. He kissed more insistently now, with a heady confidence and strength. His tongue pressed along my lip and my mouth opened like he had a key, tasting our desire for one another. I mewled against the kiss, hands caught on his shoulders for stability. 

"This'll be perfect doll face," he muttered, hands running down my back. "Gotham won't know what hit 'em." His mouth found mine again, fingers digging into my ass before pulling back a hand and smacking; hard. I groaned against his lips, the sensation sending a bolt through my core. Without losing the kiss he managed a little chuckle in his throat, grinding up against me.

"Had to get you back, sweetcheeks," He breathed, swinging his hand back and smacking again, even harder. I arched against his chest, trying to pull from his mouth but his second hand had jumped to my hair, holding me flush against his kiss. His tongue nearly plunged down my throat, his teeth clacking against mine; he was starving. "Now about what you said earlier..." 

He heaved himself up to a seated position, rough hands pulling my dress over my head in one swift motion. He beamed finding there was nothing underneath.

"Oh my, you naughty thing you!" He teased kissing me again, unable to break the smile plastered on his face. Our arms had woven around each other, my bare flesh rubbing against the rough prison issue uniform. 

"Can we get this off you, darling? It's only getting in the way." I purred against his ear, my teeth grazing his earlobe lightly. He moaned and practically flung me from his lap, my body bouncing against old mattress springs as he stood to strip. It was my first time seeing his full form in decent light, and it was just as gorgeous as he felt. Creamy white skin stretched over well earned muscles, barely there freckles peppered across his shoulders. Strong, lean legs, arms made to play with me, a broad chest narrowing into a well cut waist. Finally laying eyes on his manhood was a thrill; pinker than the rest of his body; long and a perfect thickness. It tapered at the base, like it was designed to be thrust in and never removed. 

"Like what you see, doll?" He cackled and reached out, his thumb sweeping up a tiny line of drool from the corner of my mouth. Good god when had I become so carnal? "You want a taste?" 

I gave a nod, my head hazy from the sight of him. His hands free, he gripped his sex and guided it against my lips, smearing early drops of what was to come across my face. I opened willingly as he slid in with a shove; a bit more than I was ready to handle as my gagging proved. My eyes found his, barely open but watching intently, thrusting in and out slowly as a hand against my hair held me still. 

"Mm, good as this feels, it's even better to see it," he grunted and picked up his pace, little tears forming in the corners of my eyes. "Watching you choke on my cock... I'm never gonna get tired of this," He pushed in deep on his last word, bottoming out against my lips and cutting off any airways. I grabbed onto his hips, my nails scratching as they tried to push him back, but his grip was strong. "Just a second, doll face..." His head rolled back, taking a few extra seconds to enjoy the sensation before pulling away, leaving me coughing and wheezing.  

"You're gonna kill me if you keep doing that, Jerome," I rubbed my neck and gave him a discouraging look. If anything it only fanned the flames, as he grabbed my chin and slid his cock back in place. 

"There are worse ways to go." He laughed, fucking my mouth with little restraint. I held on tight to his hips, unafraid of digging in and scarring the skin. He seemed to relish the feeling, hands wrapping long locks of my hair in his fists. As my throat grew sore I waited til he had pulled back and bit down, catching his length in my teeth. My hold was secure as he tried to squirm his way back to his rhythm, but found no luck. 

"Wet blanket," he snarled, surrendering and pushing back, admiring the ridge of teeth marks now gracing his cock. "You do good work though. A real artist." All I gave him was a cruel look, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"I'm not just a toy to be used, Jerome," I spat, rising from the cot. He shot me a lopsided smirk, flopping back down in my place, his manhood stiff and wobbling with his movements. 

"But you're just so fun to play with!" He whined, stretching his arms out to either side of him. They just barely grazed the bed posts. "I can't help wanting to try all your buttons." 

I sneered over my shoulder at him, turning back round to face his insistent cock. It shook softly with with every pulse of his heartbeat, growing impatient. "You strike me as the type to play with a toy til it breaks."

"I play rough," he growled through a wicked smile. He bucked his hips up, trying to draw attention to his still burning erection. "I believe we were in the middle of something?" He straightened himself out lengthwise, hands behind his head like he was about to take a nap. 

I bit my lip; but had a plan in mind. I bent over him, kissing his cheek and letting my breath blow across his ear. "Close your eyes, Jerome; I want to make this really fun." 

He wriggled his legs with excitement, screwing his eyes shut. "I do love surprises!" He squealed, unaware of my actions around the room. 

"Oh I think you'll like this one a whole lot, ginger." I let an edge into my voice as I gathered up a few scarves. He barely registered the knots forming around his wrists as I yanked them against the upper railing, securing them there. His lids shot open, craning to see the handiwork that held him in place. He tugged his arms but found no give. 

"Kinky; but I usually prefer doing the knots," he muttered, writhing and wriggling. "And ginger? You're less creative than I gave you credit for." 

"Well doesn't somebody have a mouth on them," I murmurred, circling the cot. "Especially for somebody in such a compromising situation." I lashed his legs to either edge of the frame with a second and third scarf; despite his complaints, he wasn't resisting me much. 

 

"I'm smart enough to know when my girl wants to get bossy," he replied,  his body twisting. With as firm a hand as I could manage I forced his hips back against the mattress, his eyes wild and watching, engrossed. "And man enough to let her; within reason." 

I gave him my starlet smile, crawling onto the bed and taking my place hovering over his groin, my knees pressing into old padding and rusty springs. The tip of his dick pressed softly against my pussy; the sight of him with such little control already had me slick and ready. I laid my palms on his chest, breaths deep and steady with that craving in his eyes only I could fulfill. I pressed down, trapping his length between my lower lips, coating his underside with juices. He groaned, his head rolling from side to side, a combined reaction of arousal and annoyance. 

"Come on, doll face! Let's get this show on the road!" He ordered, thrusting upwards with no entrance. I giggled in my brainless enjenue style, running my fingertips over his toned stomach, up across his flexed and bound arms, rolling my hips only to frustrate him further. He struggled against my knots, only making me laugh more. He glared upward, not one to be the butt of the joke. "Stop playing, sweetheart; you're making me mad." 

"Oh darling, you're just mad because you're losing," I breathed, my fingers finding the head of his manhood between my folds, toying with the soft white hot flesh, sticky and wanting. He practically roared in response; he'd be kicking and banging his fists if he could in his little tantrum. 

"We're playing my game now, Jerome," I eased up slightly, freeing his sex, naturally meeting my opening again. My hands slid up with me, towards his chest. 

"Let's see how long you'll last." I slid down onto his length as my fingers wrapped around his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you like this <:) I wanna know what I can do to make it better


	17. Redheads

His eyes went wide before rolling back in his skull, mouth opening in a chorus of strangled groans. My grip on his neck was tight; and though my hands couldn't encompass the entirety of it, the effects were still clear. Each time I pulled myself up I would just barely release him, only to squeeze all that much harder coming down. The excess effort was taxing, but worth it for the look on his face; caught between wanting to kill me or die for me.  
   
"You're not the only one who plays rough, Jerome," I gasped, his cheeks flushed and breath rasping. "You seem to forget I earned my place here just like you did." My nails scratched at his neck, guteral growls forced out of him each time I took his cock. The new position was demanding but rewarding; he was at the perfect angle to hit every inch I needed, stretch me in places I didn't know I had. My own body was pinked and heaving, watching my partner so helpless, so furious. His mouth opened and his teeth snapped, and I could feel his throat vibrate with growls and grunts. 

"If this is going to work you'll have to accept me as your equal," I continued, my pussy tightening around him in sweet bliss. "Think you can manage that?" His brows were knit together but he managed a nod; still I would not let go of his neck. "Well we know a promise doesn't hold weight with you... swear to me," I smiled in a wicked way, a look that felt unknown on my face. I leaned down, just enough that my cheek was on his, removing him almost entirely from my hole. "I'm as much your god as you are mine." 

I felt his tongue dart out across his lips, and despite my hands he choked out an answer. "I-I...yes," he wheezed as I removed one hand. "I swear to you."

I slid back onto him, bottoming out against his pelvis, my hands receding with me. He gulped in air, sputtering and staring up at me; fury, lust, disbelief and admiration danced in his eyes. 

"Better?" I asked, my head cocking to one side, still bouncing along his rigid length. 

"Breath of fresh air," he croaked, a devilish grin on his face. He looked like he would eat me whole given the chance. "You make a compelling argument." 

"Rarely do people say no to me," I licked my lips, letting my body arch slightly, my hands going to support myself on his thighs. His glare flowed down, now distracted by bare breasts topped with budding, bright pink nipples, down lower to see his dick sliding in and out of me. He ran his tongue over his teeth, thrilled over the scene. 

"I can buy that." He hissed, jerking his hips upward. I yelped and dragged my nails across his legs, that little extra force applying delicious pressure to my most sensitive spot. A soft little chuckle left his lips at his good work, his muscles flexing as he thrusted against me once more, twice more; seeing the permission in my face for him to accelerate his actions. 

"Oh, mm... then I think you know now," the cooperative motion of our bodies, bringing myself down onto his length, him  ramming his cock up into my wanton dripping pussy was almost too much for me to keep up my words. "That I - oh there, yes - can play just as rough as you."

He released a cacophony of moans and laughter, his hands now gripping his restraints for traction. "First hand, doll!" He grunted as his body grew more aggressive, more focused on his release which was coming up fast. "Rougher the better... so long as you're calling the shots." 

I could barely hear him; my own orgasm was coming on hard and fast, my cunt constricting around his member, juices flowing and coating him tip to base. My voice was lost in cries as it finally hitting me, my body trembling and convulsing, setting off a chain reaction of Jerome's own climax; that addictive, all encompassing heat spreading in my core as he came. His hips still jerked and jumped as he slowed; my energy finally gave out and collapsed against his chest, hard and hot on my softness. The cell was filled with heavy panting, the uneven squelch of his cock not wanting to leave its place, and the thick, satisfying smell of our games. We laid there for a long few minutes, my ears enraptured by the black heartbeat racing in his chest. 

"Mm, Celeste - you sure know how to show a man a good time," the body beneath mine shook with cackles; I joined in, letting myself laugh without reservation. 

"I know what you like," I replied, resting my chin against his chest, my hands cupping his cheeks. He craned his neck to look at me; the yearning to butcher me had vanished, replaced with a relieved, fulfilled  calm. Much like mine, the evil in him craved bodies; whether through sex or violence was interchangeable. "I'm glad we could reach an arrangement given our situation." 

His cheeks stretched with a grin under my palms, giving a little nod and jostling a few orange strands across his forehead. "I'll say!" He tried to pull further for a kiss, but found his binds still held. "I know I have a bad track record here, but pretty please untie me? These scarf thingies aren't really my color." 

"Let's see how you do with just the one," I pushed myself upwards, my bosom hovering above his head as I untied the loops that held his right hand. As it fell away it exposed reddening impressions, blood broke under skin from his attempts at freedom. I felt light kisses against the curves of my breasts, his arm rotating out the stiffness, before circling around my back and hugging me close.

"Doesn't that feel better?" He purred, his soft clean skin nuzzling into my chest. I smiled to myself, leaning back on my knees to see his grin. His hand moved with me, long fingers lazily stroking my flesh. "See? Good behaviour. I can play nice."  
   
"A model inmate," I bated, my fingers running through his hair. "With pleasure out of the way, tell me more about our escape." 

"I figure we bust out, night probably; kill the guards, maybe an inmate or two on our way," he chuckled, continuing. "Hop the fence, hot wire a car, head to the old circus grounds and fuck under the starlight; free lunatics." His hand slid down and gave my backside a grab, smacking the curve before pulling away.

"How romantic," I grinned, heaving up again to undo his left scarf. It joined it's twin at the small of my back, hugging me close. "Why the circus grounds, though? I have a few properties outside the city. Could get as far away as we want from here." 

"Nah," he shook his head, fingers twisting in my locks. "Gotham is a black hole of terrible people and terrible things; it's our kinda town. Besides, I found you here. It's got sentimental value." He brought a hand to tilt my chin to his gaze, awaiting my response. "We could bring the city to its knees. Make the whole town into Arkham." 

I kissed his lips, firm and committed. Still so soft, so hot. "I can't wait. They haven't seen anything like us." 

His smile was wide and wicked, kissing me back. The plan was in place; though crude, I wanted to try. It meant leaving this wretched place, that living slime Sionis; and if by some chance we actually managed to make it out, the darkness that would descend on Gotham would be unending and inescapable. We could make the void real; live in it forever. 

"Say Jerome, I meant to ask," I restored myself to my knees, releasing his ankles from the final ties. He popped out from under me, standing and stretching out his limbs. "Sionis usually likes to keep his gang close by. How'd you sneak off?" 

"Oh, last I looked those loons were gawking at some blond at intake," he wound his arms around me, hoisting me up and giving me a spin. "Not my type. I prefer redheads."


	18. Exes

Her name was Barbara Kean; she had earned her room at Arkham just as everyone else did. She was cold to most who spoke to her, but wasn't shy to tell that she'd killed her parents; convinced to do so by some prolific serial killer noone had ever heard of. 

She was tall, leggy, and as Jerome had said, blond; in a natural, sun bleached way. Sionis wanted her immediately. 

"So you just need to go talk to her?" 

Jerome and I were discussing his orders from Sionis; he'd found his way to my cell at about 2:00 am; it had become something of a routine. I had taken to sleeping completely nude, as it was almost always how our meetings would end. We were wrapped in each other, discussing the days ahead. 

"Yep; lay on some of that classic Valeska charm, win her over," he wagged his eyebrows with a flash of a grin. I pinched his cheek, laughing at his little display. "He'll need somebody new to entertain him once we're outta here." 

I laid my head on his shoulder, my hair fanning out across his chest like a bleeding wound. We were weeks away from executing our escape and each day was less bearable. Sionis was distracted yes, but I knee he hadn't forgotten our deal. "Not long now," I murmurred, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Where to first?" 

"You know, there are just so many good choices!" He exclaimed, throwing a hand up in exasperation. "I mean there's my old man who never told me he was my father, there's the goody two shoes dick who put me away; really, just too many options." 

I smiled and brought myself up to lean against the wall, casting my legs over his torso and massaging his palm in my hands. "Both prime victims; you've got quite a pickle there Mister Valeska; however will you choose?"

His fingers closed around mine, the others sliding along my legs. "Well dear old dad is blind as a bat and old as dirt; won't take much to do him in," he purred, imagining it. "Whereas Jimmy has the whole GCPD all huddled around him; no, he'll need to be a spectacle." 

My ears perked at the name. "Jimmy? As in Jim Gordon?"

He propped himself up on his forearms, giving me a quizzical expression. "Yeah that's the one. Did he throw you in here too?" 

I shook my head. "No, he was a guard when I first arrived--" 

"Oh no, don't tell me you fucked him too." His face was a mix of anger and disgust.

"No, my darling," I wrinkled my nose and ruffled his hair, soothing his suspicions. "He was fun to play with though. Kept asking him to dance with me; but he only had eyes for my doctor." 

"Dr.Harris? Jimbo swung for a 60 year old bald guy?" He giggled, teeth gleaming. "Whatever gets your rocks off." 

"I had a different therapist before; Dr.Thompkins. He'd always go sneaking off to see her." 

"Hm, interesting," he stroked his chin, putting on a European accent. "I wonder what the head shrinker will think of me." 

I gave him a look as I crawled over him, the mattress welling up around my hands and knees, chest just grazing his. "We'll find out soon, won't we darling?" I whispered, lips brushing his mouth with lazy kisses, my eyes only half closed to watch the pleasure on his cheeks. He reclined back against the bed, arm heavy around my neck as he refused to release me from that kiss.  It held that untiring insistence it always did, somehow more lust than it had in the kiss before it; his tongue tasting that much sweeter as it passed my lips. I sucked at it softly, having learnt this to be one of his most sought after sensations. His moan reverberated off my mouth, gaze watching me through a glassy coating on his eyes. I gave it a loving bite before slipping my own tongue around it, letting them tussle in a battle that always left me dripping. 

A low hum rolled in my throat, hands finding his hair and holding him flush against my lips; tonight I found myself hungrier than usual. Maybe it was the prospect of him using those charms on someone other than myself, but he was more than happy to oblige me now. He reached down and fondled my ass, grinding his rising erection against my inner thigh. 

"Somebody's eager," he giggled. I smirked against his lips, rising enough for my hair to create a shady curtain around his head. "You know sometimes I think you only want me for my body." 

"What gave it away?" I joked, poking a knuckle against his ribcage. 

"Ha ha ha; aren't you cute," he sneered. With a breath he hoisted me up, held in the air almost like a rag doll, before lowering me into a kneeling position just over his head. "I know you love me for my talents!" He grinned up at me before sinking his teeth into my inner thigh, drawing out a yelp. 

"No that can't be it; it's definitely that figure," I replied, watching him plant tiny kisses, little promises across my legs, completely ignoring the sopping wet cunt right in front of his face. "You've got a dancer's body you kn--" I groaned as his tongue ran up the length of my slit, balling up and rolling heavy pressure around my clit from between grinning teeth. My hands found his hair, grinding my hips against his waiting mouth. 

"Ha, I know what you do to dancers, sugar," he buried his face between my folds, tongue prying against my hole and snaking in to taste every drop he could. I let my head fall back, my hair just brushing against my bottom, swinging back and forth in the rhythm of his forceful consumption. My moaning started to fill the cell, my hands winding up my chest and massaging my tits, fingers toying at my nipples, that deliciously familiar feeling of heat pooling  between my legs, so close to overflowing; only for him to stop suddenly. My eyes shot down, an annoyed expression finding me. "Tell me about 'em." He murmurred, flicking his tongue out across my clit. 

"W-what?" I stuttered, nearly lost in lust. 

"Your partners, sweetcheeks," this lick was longer, more engulfing. I shuddered, my mind running back to the men I'd murdered; that which had supplied me many nights of self play. "I showed you mine, show me yours." He was fully committed to his task again, lips closing around my clit, tongue beating at it mercilessly. 

"Mm... t-they were all in...incredible dancers; they'd all played opposite me in a number of productions," I breathed, his eyes still open and engrossed in my story. "They - oh yes - loved the woman I was... the dramatic little brat; thought they could - oh - reign me in," he wasn't making it easy for me; he grew more aggressive as I continued, tongue thrusting up inside me again. "There was this theatre; w-we had rehearsed there a few times before it - oh yes there! - it shut down... I-I asked Alden to meet me th-there," I whined as he pulled away a moment. 

"Why him first?" He spat, returning his mouth to its place, my back arching up.

"H-he... he was just so... saccharine," I whimpered, dragging my nails across his stomach. "He tried to propose to me once... swore his life to me," I jolted as I felt his teeth against my lower lips, eyes angry that any man would try and trap me down. "Calm down, kiddo I said no... but I took him up on the offer of his life," I chuckled, thinking of how he had died, over seeing this boy's face soaked in my juices. "I... I sat him in the m-mezzanine... climbed on top of him and kissed him; he always shut his eyes when we kissed," again I felt his teeth, but this time scraping against my clit in the strangest, most wonderful way. I cried out, that precipice getting closer and closer. "Oh Jerome... I-I had a - oh fuck - a knife from home on me... I hadn't even decided to do it til... oh yes that's it... til it was in his chest," I couldn't continue. My speech had been completely abandoned as his mouth had grown savage, pressing such hard circles against my clit I couldn't hold back any longer; my body shook above him, my legs giving out and my cunt totally engulfing his lower face, immeasurable tingles running through me head to toe. 

"Mm Jerome; oh fuck that was perfect," my body fell against the wall in a heap, snatching at desperate breathes to refuel. He wiped at his mouth with his arm, taking the time to lick any remaining juices from it. 

"Of course it was; it is me after all," he threw his hands out in that showman pose he favoured, a delighted grin marred by his tongue across it. "So sweetcheeks; why'd you do it?" His legs were crossed now, fists propping up his head. 

I cast my eyes away from him as I thought of my victims; the sounds of the life leaving them, the hot rush of blood that gushed over my hands. "I... I just wanted to know how it would feel I suppose," my fingers knit together across my knee, eyes on the dull light from the window. "As far back as I remember I had been curious. I knew it wasn't what the average person thought about, but I couldn't get it off my mind. When Alden offered me his life, well... I took my chance." I gave a shrug, turning back to the ginger boy in my bed. He was grinning in some unfamiliar way; unusual for him, as he was so regularly unabashed to show his emotion in his face. 

"Hey when it's your time to shine, right?" He laughed, a hand trailing against my calf. "And babe you glowed like the moon," I felt a little blush on my cheeks, staring at Jerome now. If there was another person who knew the satisfaction of killing if only to kill, it was him. The demons in us had hunted each other down; what I felt for him then was more than I had ever thought possible. "You're a dream, sugar; didn't let the shackles of 'sanity' chain you down. Freed yourself on your own," he bent forward, a hungry mouth finding mine. "What a woman!" 

I laughed at his exclamation, arms encircling his waist; we had a long night ahead, one which would yield barely any sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated!!


	19. Wrong place wrong time

Watching Jerome put his moves on Barbara Kean was no happy task for me, yet Sionis was glad to see me seething. His icy grey eyes peered at me as I watched my psychopath try and charm her; though she seemed rather immune. It was only at the mention of Sionis's talents for bringing in outside items that her attention was piqued; I was glad to see she didn't fall for him the way I did. 

With mild coaxing, she joined Richard's little gang and soon became the object of his affection. Even I had to admit she was engrossing; a spoiled socialite who had murdered her parents, who's own charms had been honed through years of dealing with men like Sionis. She had him as her lapdog in no time at all; and with that I couldn't stop from wondering if it meant I was free. 

It was a slow day, even by Arkham's standards. We had huddled into the corner of a long table, Richard going on with some inane story about ponies. My head was rested against Jerome's arm, barely listening. Sionis had such a gift for being excruciatingly boring. 

"What do you say we get out of here?" I whispered into Jerome's ear, my tone insistent near to the point of whining. My fingers gripped his bicep, usually a sure sign between us that we needed the other's attention. 

"Yeah let's blow this," he muttered, moving to stand. "Then me." He added under his breath, giving me a wink. 

"Where do you two think you're going?" Sionis had noticed our slipping away, stopping us in our tracks. 

"We're just a bit tired, Richard dear," I responded in my lilting tone. "Neither of us got much sleep last night. Mind if we go catch a few winks?" Jerome threw him a little wink with his devilish grin. 

"You can go, Celeste," Sionis screwed up his face in annoyance. "The boy stays here." My blood boiled; there was no reason to separate us but to annoy me; I wished he were dead. 

"Go ahead doll face," Jerome dipped me back and kissed my lips, giving my ass a light squeeze. "I won't be far behind." I gave him a light kiss on his cheek as I turned to leave. I barely registered the portly, crazed new patient being walked into the rec room; but as gas began spilling from the bars separating me from the general population, I spun to see my ginger companion sputtering and choking on the bluish air; it filled my lungs and I grew faint, slumping against the divider. I heard gunshots ring out from behind me, my blurry vision registering a dark clothed figure moving past with a gaggle of thugs. The last thing I could remember was flaming red hair, thumping against someone's shoulder as they carried him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! Putting Dancing in the Dark on hold for a little bit; life is getting in the way of my writing xC I'll be posting more when I have a good store of chapters saved up.
> 
> Look forward to Oswald, Ed, Dwight, and of course our boy Jerome coming at you in the future!


	20. Disconnected Darkness

-P.O.V CHANGE-

 

"WHERE IS SHE?" Was his only question to his apparent saviors; a sharply dressed man with a wide face and black hair; his cat suited sister. Sionis's body was being hauled off, having not wanted to play ball with the mysterious pair. Finally released from the restraints that held him, Jerome only needed to know where she was. 

The man - introduced now as Theo Galavan - gave the boy a look of derision. "Where's who?" 

"Celeste Brooker! You wanted our little gang, can't have it without her." His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked. Galavan scoffed, throwing a hand up in annoyance.

"The dancer? I don't need some ditz who can't follow orders around," his eyes went wide as Jerome reached for a glass, breaking it against a table and holding it dangerously close to his throat. 

"Don't you fucking talk about her like that," his face was dark and enraged; the edge of the broken glass just grazing the man's jugular. "You go and get her. We're a matching set." 

Regaining his composure, Theo gently pushed the volatile ginger's hand away. "Please, think logically a moment. We just executed a major breakout," the four other inmates who'd been selected were already running around the penthouse, picking out their rooms. "Security is going to be a thousand fold; and if she was a friend of yours, she'll be locked away under every kind of surveillance possible," Jerome's expression faltered for a moment. "If we tried to bust her out right now, it's likely they'd kill her in the process;  not to mention track you down like you left a trail," he stepped towards him, his height imposing and shadowing. "Is that what you want? Be back in prison with nothing but the memory of a dead girl?"   
   
Jerome ground his teeth, glaring up at Galavan; this ultra powerful man who'd whisked him out of that hellhole; but what was it without his dancer? "What the hell do you expect me to do then?" He snarled, his grip still tight on his makeshift weapon. 

"Help me terrorize this city," Theo gave him a winning smile; he knew the promise of calamity would excite the young murderer. "When the heat dies down, we'll go get your girlfriend. Then you two can do as you please." 

Jerome weighed his options; if he had his way he'd march right back into the asylum, ferret her out and rescue her; but he'd probably wind up shot before even laying eyes on her. He couldn't keep from admitting Galavan's plan would likely result in him being far more alive. 

"Fine," he dropped the broken cup, thrusting his hand out for a shake but wouldn't meet his gaze. "But the second the cops have cooled off, we grab her." 

"Wouldn't have it any other way, young man." Theo was glad to shake his hand, lying through his teeth. He knew very well the two crazed lovebirds would never be together again. 

"Get me a phone," Jerome demanded. "She has to know I didn't forget about her."

The tall older man pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose; he knew Jerome was going to be stubborn, but wasn't happy to be dealing with it. "Jerome, one phone call and they'll trace it back here; I have a feeling they'd know who was calling with you on the line." 

The former inmate seethed. "Get me a phone." He repeated, turning on his heel; he found himself one of the bed rooms still available; he hadn't slept on anything so plush in his lifetime. Sleep wouldn't find him though; not when his other half was apart from him. 

He hadn't noticed how far he'd fallen for her, how deep his feelings were. The darkness inside him was solitary and he liked it that way; nobody had ever been brave enough to get so close for so long. Little flings, here and there; but when others had seen into his lack of a soul they'd gone running. Not Celeste, though. She saw the blackness and dove in, shared hers with him. They were two halves of a grotesque picture; terrifying on their own, but so much more together. 

The demon in him roared for its mate, infuriating Jerome that he couldn't simply reach out and fetch her. For now, biding his time was the only option; he'd play along with this Galavan, shock and horrify the citizens of Gotham - then he'd be off to get her, and their real reign of fear would begin. 

 

-P.O.V CHANGE-

 

My head was pounding as I woke from the drug induced sleep they put me in; it had been days since Jerome, Sionis, Barbara, and three other inmates had been stolen from the premises. When the gas had worn off and he was nowhere to be found, I had flown off the handle; I gouged the eyes of the first orderly who tried to calm me, biting into the neck of the second. It took a syringe of heavy sedative to bring me down, now streaked with blood and tears. 

I stared up at the ceiling of the infirmary; just as dingy as all the others here. An IV dripped through a tube to a vein in my arm, drifting in and out with a numb, weighty feeling. The pain of losing Jerome still stung through it; tears welling and falling any time I was awake. My eyes  ached, and the room was almost constantly filled with cries; I'd have torn apart the nurse who saw to my care had it not been for my restraints. 

I simply waited; there was nothing else I could do. I waited and wondered why he wasn't there; what kept him from me. I didn't eat; I only slept when the orderly injected a powerful sedative into my IV. I waited. 

"Quite the talent your old flame is, isn't he?" A voice with incredible diction filled my sedated mind, along with the rustling of paper. "Leader of the Maniax; quite the headline." 

My bleary eyes could just make out a bald head with red glasses sitting beside my cot, a news journal in his hands. 

"Who are you...?" I croaked, trying to rub my face to find my hands locked in metal cuffs. 

"One can't help but wonder the psychosis he must be afflicted with," the man ignored my question as my vision cleared,  folding the page over to show me his mugshot in black and white; front page. He'd finally made it. "It would have been fascinating to explore that brain."

I stared at the photo; even in print his smile leapt out from his face; the evil in his eyes still lured me in. It was strange to see him out of his uniform, in some unassuming sweater. Once again I tried to reach out for the paper but the restraints held me back. 

"Who are you?" I said more firmly, eyes sharp and mean. 

"My name is Professor Hugo Strange," the man placed the front page on my stomach, crossing his legs ad he leaned backwards. "I'm the new director of this facility. There's been some restructuring, given the asinine conduct of the previous chair." 

"What do you want from me?" I asked; I assumed whatever reason he had for being there would be because of Jerome. I couldn't imagine what help he thought I could provide. 

"The police have been waiting to question you for days," he replied, as he stood and began to unlatch my straps. "I simply want to ensure that you'll be cooperative to them in their efforts." 

"I don't know anything," I hissed bitterly. "One second he was here, the next he wasn't." 

The man allowed a small little smile on his bearded face as he undid the restraints on my ankles. "So you'll say just that?" He confirmed, moving to my second wrist. 

"I have nothing else to say." The was ringing cold and true in my ears. I had never in my life felt so powerless, so useless; it was as if with him had gone the urge to be, to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Thank you for your patience on this work :) I know I won't be able to keep up with my normal posting schedule (haven or Heathen has nearly killed me) but I will update as often as I can. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and as always feedback is appreciated!


	21. Chapter 21

"Good." The man gave a nod to an orderly by the door, who opened it to allow in a familiar face. Now freed I sat up in my bed, coming face to face with Jim Gordon.  
  
"Officer Gordon." I breathed, watching him intently as he hustled to the chair at my bedside.   
  
"Miss Brooker," he spoke awkwardly; he was trying so hard to show sympathy, but he knew very well I was a crazed killer. "Looks like you're feeling better."   
  
"Better. Yes." I replied flatly, my hands neatly folded in my lap.   


He paused, unnerved. "Yes... Miss Brooker as you know by now, Jerome Valeska and several other incarcerated persons are now loose in Gotham," I closed my eyes, trying to drive the vision of Jerome running free through the city from my mind. "I've been lead to understand you two were close?"  
  
"We were lovers," I muttered, sadness palpable in my voice despite trying to hide it. "What do you want from me?"   
  
Jim sighed, running a hand across his head. "We're wondering if you'd have any idea where he is; any indication he ever gave to where he'd go."   
  
My mind slid back to the conversation we'd shared, the circus grounds, the starlight. "No idea," I fibbed. "Didn't even look like it was any of their ideas. Some thugs rolled in and carried them off."   
  
Jim's brow furrowed, this was new information. "Why not you? If you two were so close."   
  
I shook my head, now trying to force back shameful tears. "Wrong place, wrong time," I whispered, nails digging into my hand. "Maybe they only needed six."   
  
There was a long silence between us; I think Jim was trying to sort out what was so different. I didn't want to pretend anymore; didn't want to be anyone other than the girl Jerome loved. The starlet was dead.   
  
"Mmhm... well if you think of anything that could help our investigation, please let us know," the man stood back to his full height, straightening his coat. "You... feel better, Miss Brooker."   
  
"Goodbye, Officer Gordon," I mumbled, hardly registering it as he walked away, speaking to the bespectacled director. Never before had the blackness in me felt so cold, so expansive and empty. Having brought someone into it only showed how bleak and lonely it was when it was only me. Never had someone been willing to dance through the dark before; and now gone, my legs didn't feel like swaying anymore.   
  
"Well done, Miss Brooker," Professor Strange's voice oozed with smugness, returning to my side. "You were massively helpful. Shall we have you back in your cell, now?"   
  
I looked to him in some confusion, then to the IV still plugged into my flesh. "I can leave the infirmary?"   
  
"My yes, child; at this point staying here any longer is a redundancy," he gave an unusual little smile, something that set my teeth on edge. "We'll return you to your comforts post haste. And remember; good behaviour is rewarded."   
  
Something about his statement stuck with me; I worried if he was expecting some reciprocated favour in the future. If I found him in my cell some evening I'd ensure he'd regret it. Well armed guards arrived to ferry me to my block via wheelchair; as was asylum policy. Still, they avoided touching me; afraid of any reprisals they may receive if they dared. The wheels creaked along as I watched the halls slide past me, much of it still in disrepair from the breakout. My heart split as we rolled past the cafeteria, empty and silent at this point in the day; my ears ached to hear rasping laughter echoing off of the bricks.   
  
When we finally reached my cell the staff was quick to leave me alone; still having managed to force me out of the chair without any physical contact. I stood there, barefoot, paper gowned, blinking at the grey-white light filtering through the caged windows. It was just as I'd left it; bed unmade, patchwork dress thrown across the floor. At my shelf sat a pristine, folded version of the same dress; likely supplied after the incident with the orderlies' blood being too difficult to get out. In a daze I wafted around the room, barely noticing the floor beneath me, feeling more ghost than person; I peeled off the patient gown, falling in uneven crinkles on the concrete.   


I crawled into my cot, my face finding my pillow as the tears finally came; I surmised it was his scent that brought it on. The cotton held tight to the smell of his sweat, the undertones of soap; it felt like the closest I'd ever come to the genuine article again. My body wracked with breathless sobs, the world fell away from me; the cell was gone, the bars, my belongings, even the cot. All that was left was me, the darkness, and the fading memory of how he smelled.   
  
As my arms twisted underneath my head, I found a lump underneath the cushion that felt unfamiliar; hard, cool plastic fit into my hand. I pulled it free to find a phone sitting in my palm; my eyes grew large, still brimmed with tears. Had Sionis organized this from the outside? Carefully, as if it were glass, I flipped the top half open; it was fully powered, and the screen read of a text in its memory banks. I navigated to it, finding a few short words; ones I'd heard in speech just moments earlier:  
  
Good behaviour.  
\- HS  
  
I was confused to say the least; Professor Strange? What reason did he have to do this for me? He hadn't even known Jerome; was he just in Sionis' pocket?   
  
I had no time to answer these questions, as the screen came to life with an incoming call; a blocked number. I pressed the answer button, bringing the device to my ear.   
  
"Hello?"   
  
A silence came from the other end; broken quickly by a breath.   
  
"Doll face."

"Jerome!?" I shrieked into the receiver, a hand clapping over my mouth to keep from sobbing.   
  
"Oh sugar I missed you screaming my name," his cool drawl hummed into my ear; I shut my eyes and tried to imagine his heat by my side. "Do it again."  
  
"Where are you?" I bypassed his order, my questions needing vital answers. "What happened? Did Sionis do this?"  
  
"Sionis is done-ski, darlin'," I could barely believe the words he was saying. "New boss bumped him off almost as soon as we got here."   
  
"W-what--whe- new boss? What?" In answering one question he had only fueled a hundred more.   
  
"I've been tearing the city apart, baby," he purred, an excitement in his tone. "It's gonna be so pretty for you. You'll love it."   
  
"Come get me," I ordered in a hiss, wanting nothing more than to be side by side wth him at that instant. "If this new boss got all of you out then you can manage little old me."   
  
"I can't just yet, sugar; earning my keep here. Once my job's done I'll be free to whisk you away and wreak an all new terror on this cesspool," I sighed and sniffed, he sensed my disappointment. "I'll come fetch you soon, doll; as soon as I can."   
  
"Hurry then!" I cried, my voice breaking. "I can't be left all on my lonesome here; the body gets restless, kiddo."   
  
"I know you know better than that, gorgeous," he growled into the phone. "No running off with any two bit juggling act while I'm not there to watch you."   
  
My mind turned to murkier thoughts; although not side by side, we could still play in our darkness. "What are you going to do if I did?" My voice was huskier, more heat in it than before; he noticed.   
  
"Oh sugar I thought you learned your lesson the first time; I'd tear apart any fucker who tries anything with you," I found my hand creeping downwards as he made his threats. "Wouldn't even be able to identify the body; nobody lays hands on my girl."  
  
"Nothing to worry about there love; only person laying hands on me is me," I purred, engaging the speakerphone setting the phone on the pillow; my head turned to listen. "Got to keep myself busy while you're having fun without me."   
  
"No arguments on my end," he cackled as I heard his breath grow thicker. "Is that what you're doing right now?"   
  
"It could be." I said coyly; pointless though as my hands had already moved between my legs. The sound of him was already making me excited; his breath deep and ravaging in the ear piece, the little chuckles as I gasped under my own touch.   
  
"Oh doll you're pressing all my buttons," he groaned; I pretended it was his fingers tracing my clit, his that were fucking my pussy. "No fair that I can't press yours."   
  
"Who says you aren't?" I moaned against the receiver, practically daring him to jump through the phone. "Mm... my cunt is aching for you, Jerome; why can't you come stuff me full of that cock?"   
  
"Oh doll face; when you see the show I've got planned you'll know exactly why," I caught muffled voices in the background. "Speaking of which, they've just called my cue!"   
  
"Jerome, please don't go--" the line clicked dead before I could plead any further, a frustrated wetness in my folds and an uncomfortable ache in my chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly sorry for my tardiness here guys. 
> 
> I fell out of inspiration with this fic after what happened w/ Jerome, but I do intend to finish this all the same; but it will take awhile. Have this in the meantime ♡◇♡◇


End file.
